


I Thought We'd Be Forever

by PsychoCalixteLove



Series: I've Never Liked School More [3]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Beca POV, F/F, Hurt, Pain, Past Kidnap, Pitch Perfect 2, RIP Beca's Feelings, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-14 17:11:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11787669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychoCalixteLove/pseuds/PsychoCalixteLove
Summary: Senior year was supposed to be easy for me. The Bellas were going to reign supreme once again, and my internship would start my career as a music producer. That is until a mishap with Fat Amy's vagina ruins our chances to be champions again, and my girlfriend of four lovely years breaks up with me for no apparent reason. I struggled with all the pressure to win Worlds, my love for Luisa, and the secrets I hid for the whole year. When it came time for Worlds, I never expected to be faced with not only my own problems but the truth for my harsh breakup.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Few things:
> 
> 1\. I will update every other day (depending on how fast I type) because I'm writing another fic at the same time.
> 
> 2\. I adjusted the time line to fit this:
> 
> President's Birthday - August
> 
> Car Show - November
> 
> Riff Off - January
> 
> Convention Performance - February
> 
> Worlds - End of May
> 
> 3\. I hope you like this.
> 
> WARNING: This will be sad.

The start of senior year brought many changes in my life. First, the Bellas were suspended from competition at the collegiate level, which had Chloe really triggered. She moved here toward the end of my freshman year, and we’ve been friends since. But lately, she’s been pretty standoff-ish. It all started at the Kennedy Center. We were performing for the President on his birthday until Fat Amy’s curtain malfunctioned and she ended up showing her vagina to the entire nation, and quite possibly the world. I almost couldn’t have cared less as the second change in my life made me focus on my life after college. I got an internship at Residual Heat, which gave me an insight to the music producing world. Hopefully, after I completed my internship, I would get a job there full-time and start my way to creating my own label. Aside from my professional career, I often times thought about what my personal life would be like. No doubt it’d have Luisa in it. After we both got settled to our new jobs, I guessed we’d figure out where we would both live. Knowing her, she’d want to move here to Atlanta and get an apartment together so we could spend as much time together. Things have been pretty tough for us, what with her in Denmark and me here made for pretty difficult communication. Throughout the past few months, our letters to each other have gotten less and less frequent, and while that wasn’t what was concerning, I still wished they would come more often.

What was concerning was the content of the letters. Luisa’s letters were full of how much she loved me and how much she’d be sorry if she ever hurt me. All of it confused me until I came home from my internship one day, Jesse dropped me off, and I checked the mail. There were several letters from various people, which I assumed was hate mail, and I pushed those to the back. I flipped through the few magazines that we were subscribed to and came across a letter in familiar stationery. Luisa’s typical blue envelope and blue pen were right in front of me, and I froze. She hasn’t sent a letter in weeks, and I was anticipating what was going on with her life so I dropped every other piece of mail in my hand. My excitement and anticipation took over me as I nearly tore the thing in half to get the letter out. I opened the envelope and pulled out the letter that was ripped in half. I wondered why it was ripped in half and noticed some of the paper was wrinkled like the paper had dried after getting wet from water or something. I held one side of the letter and the other side fell out of my hand. I tried to catch it, but it floated to the ground before I could get it. Instead of picking up the other half, I unfolded the half I had and read the only thing on the page. “I’m so sorry,” was what it read, the blue outline on the page normal with every letter. Confused, I picked up the other half and unfolded that, reading what it said.

“Dearest Maus, I want to break up.” I instantly broke. I felt my breathing stop, but my heart kept pounding its way out of my chest as if it was going to try and break itself. She wanted to break up with me?  _ She . . . wanted . . . to break up? _ I simply couldn’t believe it. Before I knew what was happening, I was crying and I crashed to my knees on the pavement, the half piece of paper in my balled hand. I couldn’t comprehend what just happened. All I knew was I was heartbroken. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, I felt the world around crumble into nothingness, I knew my life was over. The only love I’ve ever had in my life was gone, the love that kept me safe and sound, the love that kept me from falling into a deep depression full of darkness. Now, I could feel that darkness and hollowness make its way into the cavern where my heart once was. I cried endlessly, burying my face in the grass in front of Bella’s house. I tore at the grass as I whimpered and whined desperately for help. Help from anyone. Help from Luisa. I knew I still needed her in my life, but she just told me she wouldn’t be, possibly ever again. She didn’t give any reason at all. There was nothing else in the letter but the termination of our relationship and the apology that I knew was meant to be sincere. It didn’t feel that way at all. She went straight for my heart whether she meant to or not. I felt a knife jab itself into my chest, and now it was slowly twisting to cause me even more pain. I lifted myself from the ground, collecting the mail, and headed inside.

Thankfully, the other girls weren’t home so I could have a few more minutes of crying to myself. I walked into the kitchen, set the mail that wasn’t mine on the island, and went upstairs to Amy’s and my room. I put my bags down and sat on my bed with the letter in my hands. I stared at it for a long time, tears pouring down my face, and contemplated what to do. My first instinct was to throw the letter away and pretend it never happened, try to wake up from this nightmare. Then, I thought about banging my head against the wall until I either killed myself or forgot about Luisa. The thought surprised me because I never thought about suicide so seriously. I’ve contemplated it before, but that was when I was only an immature teenager that didn’t know how widespread and infectious taking your own life was. That’s what terrified me most, though it wouldn’t be the first time I thought about it. But being an adult considering suicide changed everything. I actually had friends who would be devastated if I died, and if Luisa found out I hurt myself because she broke up with me, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself. I quickly dismissed the idea as I shook my head, unconsciously staring at the wall next to me.

I decided it was best to try and figure out why she would want to break up with me in the first place. Did she cheat on me? Of course not, it’s Luisa, not Jesse. Or what if she did and she felt extremely guilty for it and wanted to break up with me for that? It couldn’t be because she would’ve told me before she broke it off. So why the hell would she want to call it quits? Call  _ us _ quits? I needed to find out from her. I got off my bed and went to my purse, which was on the desk beside my desk. I pulled out my phone and shoved the letter deep inside to take out the small bit of anger I brewed with my thoughts. I saw Chloe texted me about adding a Legacy, I had no idea what that was, and I quickly dialed Luisa’s number from muscle memory. I sat back on the bed, the dial tone ringing, and waited for her voicemail or her to pick up. After about the third dial tone, I knew she wasn’t going to answer because she always picked up after the first or second, but then the dial tones stopped, and all I heard was light breathing. When the person on the other line didn’t say anything, I spoke up timidly. “H-Hello? L-Luisa? Are you there?” I tried to not cry as I talked, but that turned out to be one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. I heard the light breathing turn to slightly ragged breaths as I began ranting, “Listen, if it is you . . . I just wanted to tell you th-that I-I-I still love you.” A distinct whimper came through the line as if the person was crying and I knew it was Luisa because she made the same noise while she was mourning the death of Jack from  _ Titanic _ .

I teased her almost non-stop about how she lamented the death of a fictional character, calling her a dork and nerd. But then I would comfort her with gentle kisses on the top of her head. Gentle kisses I won’t be able to give her again. I pushed away the memories of the good times as I continued in my battle against tears. “I don’t care what you did that made you feel this way, but I hope we can still be friends because I can’t live without you, Moose. I just wanted to know if you’re sure you want us to be over.” I gave Luisa some time to respond, but she didn’t. I felt more heartbroken, and finished, “Well, it must be so early in the morning there in Denmark, so I’ll let you go. Goodbye, Moose.” I breathed deeply, and went to hang up when Luisa shouted, “Wait, Maus!” I reluctantly placed the phone back at my ear, anger, confusion, and sadness tearing at me like shark teeth. “What?” I choked out, forcing a few more tears from my eyes. She was hesitant to speak, but she eventually got out, “I’m so, so, so sorry. I had to break up with you for reasons you couldn’t possibly understand.” Couldn’t understand? What she couldn’t understand was how much I hurt at this very moment. Saying I couldn’t understand something of hers was the most condescending thing she’s ever said to me, and I was immediately pissed off. I cut off her very vague explanation that was probably a lie with a nasty, “Stop, Luisa! I don’t want to hear whatever bullshit you’re trying to sell me. You already told me, it’s over. I won’t call again.”

I hung up the phone before she could respond, and as soon as I could, I deleted her contact. She was officially out of my life, but she was still very present in my heart if I had one at this point. I tossed my phone on the bed and decided I needed a distraction. I went to the bathroom, dried my eyes, and fixed my makeup before heading back to my room to grab my keys. I glanced at my phone, which the screen was shining with alerts. I briefly looked over them, and they were all from an unknown number, but I knew Luisa tried calling me back. I didn’t think about calling her back as I threw my phone back on my bed and went back outside, locking the door behind me. I knew the Trebles were having a party tonight, and knowing Chloe, the Bellas were sure to be there. I walked passed the few houses to get to the Treble house and let myself in. I wandered through the rooms and found mostly everyone was outside by the pool. Hurrying out to find something to distract me. I looked around and spotted the refreshments table, loaded with all forms of alcohol. I went there first and poured myself a rather large cup of vodka, drinking as much of it as I could before some girl walked up next to me. She started spewing compliments about me, and I still had no idea who she was until she told me she was the new Bella. “Oh, right! Chloe texted me, we added a Legacy. I didn’t even know that was a thing,” I stated, voicing my honest thoughts.

We kind of laughed, and she could tell I wanted to be left alone so she made an excuse and walked away to find someone else to talk to. I finished my drink and poured another, this time a really strong whiskey. I drank that and started to feel a bit tipsy. I didn’t realize it then, but that was the start of another problem to become prominent in the near future. It made me forget Luisa and that we were over, and I knew that I had found my distraction. Liquid courage had never tasted better. I got to my third full cup of alcohol when Chloe pulled over to the undefined dance floor, hugging me tightly around the shoulders. She let me go, and we all started dancing, the bass pounding in my ears. I drank as much as I could without anyone noticing how drunk I was getting, and I managed to push thoughts of Luisa and what we were out of my mind through the excessive drinking. Eventually, the party died down, and we Bellas decided it was time to go home. The ones who were shit faced like me walked with people who were somewhat sober, aka Jessica, Ashley, and Cynthia-Rose. The three of them were nominated the party moms at the beginning of the month, so they didn’t drink as much at parties this month. Next month, we would hold another voting session which would determine the party moms for that month and so on. I was almost never nominated because I was the leader of the group and was under enough stress with that so everyone understood my need to drink to forget some things.

We got home, and I nearly passed out as soon as I was laid down on my bed by Ashley. Or was it Jessica? Whichever one had dark hair, I think that one’s Ashley. Chloe stumbled in, completely drunk, and she yelled, “Those stupid Germans are going down!” I lifted my head up enough to tell her, “But you’re German too! So are Jessica and Ashley!” Ashley must have found my comment humorous because she laughed, and I laughed along with her. Her hospitality to me in this moment reminded me of Luisa’s helpfulness back when I first got drunk in Germany. The way she looked at me while I just ranted about nothing, and how gently she held me as she slept behind me. The memory of that night came back to me in a warm wave of the love I continued to feel for Luisa, and I was too drunk to mentally fight off any of the emotions that were stirred within me. Ashley handed me some pajamas to change into, and when she saw that I was conscious enough to accomplish the task, she left my room to see if anyone else needed help. As soon as she was out of the room, I began crying because my mind projected an image of Luisa as Ashley, and I wasn’t ready to handle her leaving again. I pawed eagerly at my face and stopped my crying long enough to change out of my alcohol-stenched clothes. I laid down in bed, pulling the covers up to my chin, and cried myself to sleep because I didn’t have Luisa here with me. I wondered if I would see Luisa again, but that happened sooner than I expected.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is 100% pure Angst. This is the epitome of downfalls.

I woke up the next morning with a screaming headache. The sun outside was too bright, and I was too cold inside and out to do anything. I knew I had classes to get to by nine so I forced myself out of bed. I looked over to Amy’s bed. Empty, as usual. She was most likely hooking up with Bumper again. I squinted my eyes and rubbed my face to try and help with the headache, but it wouldn’t go away. “That’s what you get for drinking so much last night,” my mind was telling me. I thought about it, and I could barely remember what happened last night. All I remembered was the Trebles’ party, Chloe trying to get everyone into the pool, and . . . Luisa. “At least you forgot about her for a few hours,” my subconscious was telling me, trying to lighten the mood. It failed, and my neutral mood immediately depressed. All I could think of was Luisa. She broke up with me, and I didn’t know why. I recalled how many times she called me last night, and nearly jumped for my phone, seeing if she called me anymore. I turned on my phone, the brightness blinding and scrolled through my notifications. Most were drunk texts from Chloe or other Bellas, but then I came across a particularly interesting one:  _ Voicemail: Unknown Number. _ I recognized the phone number as being Luisa’s and debated whether or not to actually listen to it, or just delete it. I felt as if I was in a horror movie where a character is about to do something that’s gonna get them killed, and the audience members were screaming, “Don’t do it! Don’t do it!”

I knew I was that character, and my subconscious was the audience, begging me not to do anything. I should’ve known not to listen to the thirty-second recording, but like those horror movie characters, I was willing to take my chances. I clicked play and held the phone to my ear, my hand shaking from fear. “H-Hallo Maus. I know you want an explanation to why I broke up with you, but I . . . I don’t know how to explain it. I feel like you could understand, but I didn’t tell you enough before I left last time for you to be able to know what I’m going through. There’s nothing more I hate than not telling you anything, but this is one those things I simply can’t explain over the phone or possibly ever. I’m sorry we had to end like this, but it had to be done. Goodbye.” I heard Luisa’s crying through her speech, but doubted they were sincere. She had never sounded so condescending before, and I simply couldn’t take it anymore. I shut my phone off and slammed it down on the bed, tears pouring down my face. I stood up and wearily made my way downstairs to the kitchen. I wanted something to distract me, and I was hungry anyway. After searching through the pantry sadly, I saw the fruit basket on the counter, grabbed an apple, and washed it off. I wondered whether to eat it as it was or cut it up, ultimately deciding to cut it. I snatched the pairing knife from the knife set on the opposite counter and was about to slice my apple with the knife until a dark thought passed through my mind.

Luisa didn’t want me anymore so I clearly wasn’t any good to anyone. My logic had no substantial basis to it, but all could feel was the emptiness inside me that used to be occupied by Luisa. That emptiness was starting to fill with a dark desire to make my wrists bleed. It would only take a few seconds to slit my wrists and bleed out, overall killing myself. I couldn’t have possibly thought of the aftermath it would cause because the only thing I wanted to see was red. Red run from my arm, red coat the blade of the knife, red paint the lips I used to call mine. Even the briefest image of Luisa or mention of her name set me off, the hollowness of my heart caving in on itself. I started to shake from a mixture of fear, anxiety, and rage. Fear of my own death. Anxiety over my actions. Rage for my cowardice. So many voices in my head were screaming contradicting things, and I didn’t know who to listen to. While a commotion was ringing in my head, the house was silent with the inactivity of the others within its walls. I envied the silence until I realized all there was, was silence. Silence of my happy thoughts. Silence of the good times. Silence of my love. I nearly cried at the epiphany but continued in my attempt anyway. I let go of the apple and clenched my fist, holding it down to the counter. My breath shuddered in and out of me as I adjusted my grip on the knife so it was trapped in my fist, hovering it above my pure flesh. Tears blurred my vision while I pressed the point of the blade to my skin. I applied pressure until I felt a sharp prick and tears stained my cheeks again.

I was about to drag the knife down a line on my forearm when Chloe yawned from behind me, “Hey, Becs. How are you this morning?” I heard her voice in the back of my mind, and reversed my actions, pulling the knife away from my arm and wiping my eyes. I slowly turned around with the apple in my hand and the knife hidden behind my back. My arm had a small puncture wound in it, but I tried my best to act like nothing happened. I bit into the apple as I lied cooly, “I’m fine. Just a minor headache is all. What about you? You seemed pretty hammered last night.” She nodded, opened the fridge, and answered, “I’m as fine as always am. I think I’ve been drinking for so long that my body naturally built up a tolerance or something like that. I don’t know, I barely paid attention in Health.” Of all the subjects she failed, Health had to be the easiest and it made me wonder how she wasn’t expelled yet. I took another bite of my apple and secretly slipped the knife into the sink, hoping Chloe didn’t question the running water. She closed the fridge and retrieved a spoon from the drawer to eat her yoghurt on the counter. I finished my apple, threw the core in the trash, and watched Chloe intently. As many people know, she’s ginger so many people doubt everything about her. Though she wasn’t the smartest of people, she seemed to understand me like almost no one else had, the only exception being Luisa. Luisa was the one to know what to do in any situation I found myself in, but Chloe didn’t know how to handle suicide, that was for sure.

Chloe saw my staring from across the room, and asked, “Is everything okay, Beca?” I had to think about that question. Was everything okay? My girlfriend broke up with me over some bullshit reason I don’t even know, and now I want to kill myself so yeah Chloe. I’m completely fine. Of course not, but I wasn’t telling her that. “Yeah, Chlo. I’ve just got so much work to do,” I played, rubbing my forehead. “You know, the cure for a hangover is more alcohol, specifically beer,” Chloe suggested, knowing I had a massive headache still. I wondered how more alcohol would help with an alcohol problem, but I knew I could trust Chloe on things like this so I went to the fridge and pulled out a spare beer we had in there. I opened that and nearly downed it in less than thirty seconds. I knew I was only falling deeper into the hole of alcoholism I chose to start digging last night, but I would do anything to both get rid of this headache and forget Luisa for another few hours. I couldn’t stop myself, the damn drink tasted too good. It tasted like freedom from every problem I had with life while also an imprisonment in my own mind. I finished the first bottle, and asked, “How many do I have to drink?”

“Two or three should do it,” Chloe answered, taking another spoonful of yoghurt in her mouth. I decided to go with three because that meant I could drink more and pulled out two more bottles of beer. I tossed out the first one, opened the second one, and drank long and hard from it. I swallowed harshly and barely breathed as I chugged the liquid down. I set the empty bottle down on the counter in front of me, already starting my pain go away. Thoughts of Luisa were pushed out of my mind as I went to the third bottle, disregarding the concern written on Chloe’s face. I drank the entirety of the third before Chloe asked again, “Are you sure you’re alright? Because you just drank three drinks in a matter of two minutes.” I nodded my head, the rush of alcohol hitting my bloodstream, and told her, “Yeah, Chlo. I just wanted to get rid of that headache really badly.” I knew Chloe would believe me because we made a rule that we’d never lie to each other, and while I admit I often used that against her, I sometimes thought lying was the best way to go to protect her feelings. Or to just get her to leave me alone, which is where I was heading now. I preferred to be alone while I drank because it left me to wander my mind in an attempt to solve the problem I avoided by drinking. Chloe bought my lies and left me in the kitchen, going back upstairs to get dressed for her classes. I cleaned up the other empty bottles and had a second of hesitation before following Chloe’s plans of getting dressed and going to class.

********

Weeks later, I found myself drunk off my ass and dancing to some Britney Spears song. I was at a gay club in Atlanta, and I was only there to get wasted and dance. I had no intentions of sleeping with anyone unless I really felt like I needed something to please me, but then I would turn to my three fingers to do that. If Luisa wasn’t going to do me anymore, I would do myself as much as I wanted and not feel guilty about it. Over the past few weeks, I developed some pretty nasty habits. The first one was my constant need to be drunk or high in some way to keep thoughts of Lusia from invading my mind. The second one was that I thought of killing myself when anything bad happened like that bad situation was only adding to the pain I already had in my chest. The third habit was the derivative of the other two. I reread Luisa’s last letter to me nearly every day, reminding myself of why I was always so wasted and suicidal. My alcoholism and desire to kill myself had gotten so far I had actually bought razor blades for me to slit my wrists with when I felt the time was right, and I often hid bottles of vodka or something under my bed. It didn’t help that my self-depreciation kicked in when I knew what was happening to me. I thought I was the most pathetic person ever for letting someone so insignificant affect me this way.

I stared at myself in the mirror for hours sometimes, just pointing out what was wrong with me. I would first say to my reflection, “ _ She’s _ what’s wrong with you. That good-for-nothing little . . . little  _ bitch _ !” I always regretted what I said about Luisa because I knew none of it was true, but my dark side was the one reflected in the glass, not the person I wanted to be. It was always the person I was that was reflected in the mirror, which always turned out to be a broken-hearted alcoholic who knew nothing about the music producing world and who would most likely die alone at the age of 26. I was able to accept that fate because I knew Luisa wouldn’t be back to save me from my demise. From myself. I argued back and forth with myself as I went insane with the idea of Luisa never wanting me back. I desperately craved her every day. Craved her love. Craved for any sign from her that what we had was real. I never got any of those things, and I wondered how I was still alive while living with that information. That’s when it hit me. I had blades in my purse. I could get a taste of death instantly. I pried myself from the grinding dancers and made my way to the bathroom. I locked myself in the largest stall I could find and set my purse down on the sink. I fished out the razor blade I packed in a disguisable package of gum and held it between my first two fingers and thumb. I stared at the edge for a long while before bringing it to my wrist. Completely drunk, I hoarsely dragged the sharp edge over the inside of my forearm, making the first cut of many to come.

My arm started bleeding, and I didn’t care. I revelled in the throbbing pain starting to develop. I cut another line in my forearm before I rinsed off the blade and let my arm bleed until it stopped. The cuts burned, but that was the least amount of pain I had felt in months, and I loved it. I loved the pain like I loved Luisa. I knew it was twisted of me to say such a thing, and I knew I shouldn’t have even started, but this was the one thing I turned to when I was feeling low. I knew Chloe and the other Bellas were there to help, but I thought I could figure this out on my own. I just needed to stop drinking, and move on from Luisa as soon as possible. They say it’ll take twice as long as your relationship lasted for someone to move on from that relationship. If that’s the case, then I’ll have to prepare myself for another hellish four years. I already cut off contact with Luisa about a month and a half ago, and I knew I was at a start because I haven’t spoken to her since. I still loved her with all the pieces of my heart that I could find, and I wanted her so badly, I didn’t know what I would do if I ever saw her again. Would she even recognize the person I had become?


	3. Chapter 3

“We’re here for one reason only. To scout the competition,” Chloe said as we rode the escalators up to the performance area where this German team was supposed to be performing. I still had no idea what this team’s name was, and I honestly didn’t care. I only came to this stupid show so I could get away from any form of alcohol or my razor blades, which were in my purse in the van. My wrist still hurt from last night’s escapade at the club, and I was still a bit tipsy, but I ignored it as we stepped off at the top, seeing Stacie basically backward fuck a car. We walked into the stage room and everyone but me gasped at the sight. The room was awash in shades of blue, black, and silver like the Volkswagen logo and definitely suited my mood right then. I was a combination of depression and hurt, and I didn’t want to be here at all. I didn’t want to be anywhere but Luisa’s soft, strong arms, but I knew I couldn’t be there anymore. Anyway, The room had high tables that came up to my chest with water bottles arranged neatly on top. We made our way to two of these tables, and stood there, waiting for the show to start. We watched as the cars on stage moved backward seemingly on their own, surprising a few of the girls. Chloe told them to calm down because the cars only moved, nothing else happened, and Fat Amy pointed out that they moved on their own. Suddenly, the screens flickered to life and a new feeling burrowed itself deep inside me as I saw the one person I was avoiding: Luisa.

“We are . . . we are . . . Das Sound Machine. A German collective . . . “ Luisa droned on, part of her words getting lost. “What a better way to appreciate automotive perfection,” she finished, the screens going dark again. The opening chords to Muse’s “Uprising” rang through the room, but I could barely hear them because I heard several voices in my head. They were all my imagination, but I could hear them loud and clear. The first was Chloe, telling me, “You never told us Luisa was in an acapella group!” I looked over at Chloe, and her jaw was open wide enough for me to shove my entire fist inside as if she had actually told me that. I turned back to the stage right when Luisa came in with, “Come on!” She had her hair pulled back into a bun and her uniform matched her team members’: sleeveless black polo, mesh shirts underneath, and rolled up black pants with combat boots. I thought about it for a second and realized Das Sound Machine’s initials were DSM, the name of Luisa’s prank group back in high school. That night I met DSM was still burned into my memory. The way Luisa held me close to her and said I was hers, the way she carried me to the park when I fucked up, but mostly the way she made me feel, which was the complete opposite of the feeling I was experiencing right now. I was happy, content then. Now, I’m just broken and hurting because of  _ her _ . She’s the one who broke my heart and overall changed me to a different person.

I couldn’t blame her for the other problems that arose because she broke up with me. I voluntarily let myself fall into that dark hole of misery and self-harm, and never wanted to crawl out of that hole. I was so close to resigning myself to that hole and allowing it to slowly kill me until I killed myself. I stared at Luisa the entire time, my gaze never faltering from the woman I still loved. They finished their performance, and Luisa looked around the crowd, thanking them in German. Classic Luisa. Finally, she looked at us and locked her eyes on me. I unconsciously crossed my arms to conceal how much my arm was itching to be cut as if she could read everything from the neutral as possible expression adorning my face. She smirked like she typically did as Kommissar and nodded to Pieter who was wearing his guyliner again. They exited the stage, and I knew she was heading toward us for confrontation. I looked to the other Bellas and they seemed to get the picture. They crowded around me since I was the leader and we didn’t walk very far because we wanted to keep a safe distance. Kommissar stopped about four feet in front of me, reached her hand out to Pieter, and he placed a small towel in her hand. She brought the towel to her beautiful column of a neck and dabbed at some sweat that was somehow there and greeted us, “Barden Bellas! You come? To see us? Is it because you are . .  . what do the American kids say . . . Jelly?”

I’ve only ever seen her act this way and that was four long years ago when I first met her in high school. God, I missed those times. Everything seemed easier then, but this was now and I needed to focus. “We are so not ‘Jelly’,” Chloe stated, picking up the slack I had. “We really should really thank you for making this tour a reality you know with your bumbling ineptitude,” Kommissar casually insulted, glancing at all of us. She looked to Pieter and continued, “We should send them something . . . fruit basket?” Pieter shook his head and said, “Yum Yum.” Kommissar looked straight at me, smiled genuinely, and asked, “Or would you prefer mini muffins?” A surge of anger went through me because I knew she knew I liked mini muffins and was trying to get at me. In this anger, I raised my hands and managed, “Okay, we didn’t come here to start something with you guys we just wanted to check you out before Worlds where we’re gonna kick your ass.” The Bellas behind me “Ooh-ed” in an attempt to make my weak insult stronger, but it only triggered Kommissar. She took a step toward me as she pointed at me with a finger she’s used on me several times before and disparaged, “You?” She was moving her hands to emphasize her point when she continued, “You are . . . the kicker of ass?” She was less than two feet away from me and I could smell her intoxicating aroma of cinnamon and vanilla. If I wasn’t completely drunk before I was now, and she seemed to know this and play it to her advantage.

Feeling awkward, I glanced at Emily to my left, then down at the ground, and mumbled, “Well . . . yeah.” She tilted her head down to look at me and I met her gaze, struck frozen by her icy blue gaze. “But you are so tiny, like an elf. Or is it a fairy? Sprite . . . “ she insulted, knowing I was self-conscious about my height. After Pieter clarified that I was a troll, I tried to insult her by saying, “You . . . are physically flawless. But it doesn’t mean I like you.” She thanked me, knowing I still loved her and smirked at me. Chloe realized I wasn’t any help, and took over the situation. Kommissar and I stared into each other’s eyes while Pieter and Amy argued over her name and us being a heated mess. This was the first time in months that I’ve seen Luisa in person, and I absolutely hated it. The condescending facade she was playing off of, the way she intentionally poked fun at wounds that were still bleeding, and her lack of attention to how much I was itching to do anything besides stand there all made me sick to my stomach. Or was that the alcohol? It was all a blur at this point. “Darlings, take my advice. Don’t try to beat us. You can’t. We’re the best. And I really must go rest my neck. It is sore from looking down at you,” Kommissar concluded, breaking contact as she walked away.

“Okay. Just because you’re making me very confused does not mean you’re intimidating! We have nothing to lose! Literally nothing! Aca-Wiedersehen bitches!” I yelled at them, waving my hands crazily. They left, and I nearly crumbled. Chloe knew that I needed a few minutes alone so she took the rest of the Bellas and went back to the van to wait for me to calm down. I rested my face in my hands as I leaned on the table behind me and cried lightly, trying not to smudge my makeup too much. After about a minute, I felt a familiar warmth come up behind me. They placed their hand delicately on my shoulder, and gently whispered, “Maus?” I knew it was Luisa, and I whipped around, glaring her in the face with slightly puffy eyes. I saw a sort of sad seriousness cross her face as she peered down at me. Rage taking control over me, I turned around and stormed out the performance area, hearing Luisa yell, “Maus!” Tears fell down my face furiously while I made my way down the escalators, pushing past people to get outside faster. I got off the escalators and sped walked as fast as I could through the large hall to the door. Despite how determined I was to get away from Luisa, she got to me as I was halfway to the door and in the center of a lot of people. She grabbed my left forearm softly but insistently, which made me stop because it hurt so much. I didn’t want her to know about the cuts so I hid the pain behind a guise of sadness I knew she’d believe.

I tore my arm from her grip, turned around, and shouted, “Stop, Luisa!” This caught the attention of the people around us, but I didn’t care at this point. I noticed she was crying too if only slightly, and almost felt bad for snapping at her so harshly. Almost. “What do you want from me, Luisa?!” I screamed, turning a few more heads to our heating argument. She opened and closed her mouth several times before she managed to whimper, “I-I’m so sorry. F-For everything.” I was so done with her apologies, and so enraged that she would even try to talk to me that I just went ballistic. “Sorry for what?! Sorry for not talking to me for two months?! Sorry for breaking up with me?! Sorry for ruining my life?! Is that what you’re sorry for?! Because I’m done with you trying to apologize. You’ve already made it very clear you don’t want me in your life anymore, and now you’re trying to get me back?! I don’t know what’s worse. You playing this fucking game of yours or me actually believing you aren’t the cold-hearted bitch you’ve become!” She appeared to be really hurt by my vehemence, but she had no excuses to be crying so much. I was going to make that very clear to her.

She stepped toward me as she reached out for me and whined, “Beca please—”

“No, Luisa! I don’t want to hear your bullshit! Give me one good fucking reason why I should even let you speak to me!” She took one step more, tilted my head to hers, and pressed her lips firmly against mine. She managed to slip her tongue into my mouth, deepening the kiss, and held my cheek gently. This was typically how she kissed me when I was upset. Deep and lovingly. This was a bit different. She was a little forceful with her actions like she was afraid I’d pull away immediately. Me being me, I didn’t pull away and I relaxed just a bit into the kiss. I reached up and placed one hand on the opposite side of her face, caressing her cheek. The other hand settled on her chest where I could feel her heart beat like crazy. She felt my animosity lessen and slipped something into my shirt like she did years ago. As if I realized what I was doing, I quickly moved both my hands to her shoulders and pushed her as far away from me as I could, which as luck would have it, was a few feet. The look on her face was all I needed to know I hurt her. She was on the verge of tears again, but she glanced past me and her eyes widened in pure terror. I had never seen her so scared before, but I disregarded it as I turned to walk away and walked into some guy. I barely glanced at him and mumbled, “Sorry, excuse me.” I only caught a glimpse of his hair which seemed to be a pale blonde like Luisa’s and I was heading out the door.

I cleaned myself up as much as I could to be considered normal and I boarded the van. I sat down next to Chloe and crossed my arms and legs, breathing out slowly. She noticed how I was acting and quietly asked to not cause too much of a scene, “Are you okay? I mean, I know it’s hard to keep professional boundaries when you love each other, but I’m glad you got to talk to her afterward.” I then remembered Chloe knew nothing of Luisa’s and my bad breakup, Luisa’s shitty attempts to apologize for breaking my heart, and her refusal to talk to me at all. I decided not to talk at all and instead peered out the window to think about things. Chloe saw that I wanted to be alone, but deep down inside, I was screaming for someone to force me to talk. I felt like two different people at this point. My hard, outer shell that only saw one way out of all my problems, which was suicide, and the soft child-like core that wanted all of my risky behaviors to stop and for me to get some help for my worsening problems. I knew I wasn’t going to stop where I was because I was stuck in a never ending downward spiral toward oblivion. I desperately craved a drink and blade right now just because they helped rid of the pain. I had to face these problems some time, but it certainly wasn’t going to be anytime soon. I moved around in my seat and remembered the note Luisa dropped into my bra. I didn’t care how weird I looked so I reached into my bra and pulled out a roughly folded up piece of paper.

I looked at it for a while before finally deciding that what it said couldn’t be any worse bullshit than she’s already said to me. I unfolded the paper and realized it was upside down, turning it right side up again. The first time I read it, I was really confused. The note was written in the secret language we created from German, and limited Russian I knew. We really only talked in this language, and the last time we did was months possibly even a year ago. I could only translate the first part and I pondered over what she meant throughout the whole rest of the way home.

_ Erinnere dich an den Park und Его секреты. _

_ Remember the park and Его секреты. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:
> 
> Erinnere dich an den Park und Его секреты. - Remember the park and its secrets.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of cried while writing this, but then again I cried at the movie version of Romeo and Juliet while watching it last night so . . .

A cold wall to my back, almost no clothes, and drunk to no extent is where I found myself later that night. My arms were wrapped tightly around the person in front of me, and my legs were around the person’s waist as they fucked me good and hard against their bedroom wall. Their face was buried in my chest and all I could see when I looked down was their powerful body and blonde hair. It wasn’t Luisa doing this to me, but I liked to imagine it was. I was only in a bra and I still had my panties on because we both were so drunk and horny we couldn’t wait to take them off. Their hands were either holding me up on the wall or touching the places only Luisa had ever touched before. My head tilted back onto the wall as a small moan escaped my lips. I could feel my orgasm coming and I begged, “God, please! I’m so close!” The person’s head lifted so they could say, “Then do it! Cum all over me!” Their voice was raspy but I knew who it was. I met him at the bar I went to after the Car Show. I’ve known him for years, but really only talked to him for one. He always got my name wrong, though I didn’t mind because he was hot. I pointed that out then because I was alone and wanted something to make me forget I was missing Luisa. I didn’t figure out who it was until I turned around in my seat and saw their face. Luke was my mystery lover for the night, and I was fine with that.

Believe it or not, that was the first time I had ever had sex with a guy. I’ve only ever been with women, Luisa to be more specific. She’s the one who took my virginity, the one who made all my fantasies come to life, the one who ruined my life. I tried not to think of her as Luke continually pushed himself inside of me, biting down on my neck. I screamed out in pain and pulled his hair, losing my breath in the process. He thrust inside me a few more times, and I came. I barely felt anything from it, and I thought it had to do with the fact that he wasn’t Luisa. Luisa always knew how to get me going, how to get me up, and how to get me there, but Luke wasn’t Luisa. There may have been many similarities in physical appearance, but there was one major difference. Luisa was always soft whether it was her hand or precious mouth, hell even pressing her muscular thigh into my clit enough times was enough. But Luke was hard. Extremely hard. That’s what didn’t make this pleasurable, their touch. Luisa had love in her touch, which automatically softened the desire lying within. Luke was pure arousal and lust, no love at all for me. I think that’s what made simple hook ups so simple. Neither person loved each other so it was a one night stand that kept repeating. I slept with Luke because he was giving me attention if only for maybe half an hour. Luisa wasn’t doing any of that anymore, and I knew the Bellas weren’t going to give me the attention I needed or thought I needed.

I zoned out of the rest of the night, not interested in getting fucked anymore. I still let Luke inside me, but that was because I didn’t have anything else to do. I knew we weren’t together, but I felt like I was still cheating on Luisa. Like I was hurting her unconsciously. Like the past four or five years of my life were a waste of my time. And that’s when I realized the most monumental event in the history of my life. I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty for kissing and touching Luke like I had Luisa. I didn’t feel the pain of our break up anymore. I barely even felt the love I had for Luisa. Over the past few months, my alcoholism and new self-harm had become habits. Bed ones, but that didn’t make me stop them. Nobody but me knew about them, so they couldn’t hurt anyone else. I’ve tried to break them, but I guess I’m just weak. I always gave in to my cravings, no matter what they were. Alcohol and blood just seemed to be two never ending ones. I know I really only started craving blood yesterday, but God I wanted it badly when I saw Luisa. She ripped my heart out and caused the ocean of soul and emotion I had in me to flood everywhere. While I was vulnerable, the two demons that haunted me now took over my body and kicked me whenever I was down, which was more often than I cared to admit.

Alcoholism hit the hardest and almost everyday, regardless of how I was feeling. Self-harm itched at my wrists whenever something bad would happen, no matter its severity. I knew Drug Abuse couldn’t be far behind, but I knew of its dangers so I avoided it at all costs. Eventually, Luke finished himself off and rolled off me, almost immediately falling asleep. I was thankful for that because I knew Chloe wouldn’t approve of me being out the entire night. I didn’t know what I was doing when I left Luke a short note that said, “We should do this some other time. - Becky,” and my phone number written at the bottom. I quickly put on as many clothes as would be considered publicly acceptable, meaning I only put my leggings and camisole back on as well as my shoes. I glanced back at Luke before letting myself out of his apartment and walking toward the Bella house, which was about five minutes from Luke’s apartment. As I walked through the streets of Atlanta, a song from the day to mind. “Uprising” played in my head endlessly, and the performance to go along with it flashed before my eyes. The performance itself didn’t, but Luisa did. I knew I would never forget Luisa or what she’s done to me, good or bad. All I knew was that she would not force me, or degrade me any longer. That was me trying to get a handle on my life, starting with not letting Luisa affect me anymore. I was resolute to keep our professional boundaries, and even push her back. I was confident in my decision until I walked in the house and beheld the most horrifying sight of the day.

Luisa, not Kommissar, sitting on the couch and talking to Chloe and the others who moved here from Germany. She had her hair back in a ponytail and was wearing a t-shirt with jeans, simple clothes. She caught sight of me and I remembered my scars were clearly visible so I furiously pulled my long sleeve back over my head. She laughed at my failed attempt to put on a shirt because I put it on backward and she got up to help me. By the time she got to me, I had turned it around, really not wanting to explain the cuts if she saw them. Luckily for me, she didn’t see them but she did look at me pleadingly like she was saying, “Please don’t be mad at me for this.” Knowing I couldn’t refuse her puppy eyes, I caved and whispered, “Fine. I’ll play along. But you have to explain a few things later.” To keep up the idea that we were going strong, though we were decimated like two months ago, I wrapped my arms around Luisa’s neck and pulled her down into a kiss where I harshly bit her lip, making her grip my waist fairly tightly. We pulled away and I asked Chloe, “Do you mind if me and Luisa go upstairs alone? Not that we’re trying to do anything, it’s just there are a few things I need to talk to her about.” I kind of lied, but Chloe didn’t seem to mind, and neither did Amy as she wiggled her eyebrows sensually.

I dragged Luisa up the stairs and to my room where I closed and locked the door tightly. I let her follow me to the bed, and I sat at the top of the bed while she sat across from me at the bottom. I brought a pillow into my lap, holding it to my chest, and glared at her. How did she have the gall to come here and make that kind of a scene in front of every Bella she knew? Many emotions stirred within me, but only one showed: sadness. Tears ran down my face, and I couldn’t stop them. It wasn’t me that was doing this, it was Luisa. She made me feel things others could barely describe, and I wanted her to hold me to her chest and tell me she loved me desperately. I knew it wasn’t possible because she didn’t love me anymore, and that broke my heart more. I thought my heart was done breaking to pieces, but my everlasting love for Luisa always fixed it and shattered it time and time again. She noticed my conflicting emotions and started to cry herself too, no doubt to get pity from me. Before I knew what was happening, she had pulled me into her lap and hugged me tighter than anything she ever has. Not even the time we didn’t see each other for three months could surpass the way she hugged me then. She didn’t crush me, but she was pretty forceful with her insistence. “I don’t know how to describe the way I feel right now,” Luisa admitted, pressing her cheek to the top of my head.

“Then show me,” I whimpered, dying to know how Luisa felt. I looked up into her blue eyes to see the true nature of her visit. She loved me. I didn’t know how or why, but she still loved me. It wasn’t a second longer that she captured my lips in the gentlest kiss in my life, her lips faltering as she cried more. She pulled away in a rush, and refused to look at me. I could tell there was something wrong with her, with her life, or something to make her act this way. She held me, but I felt her slipping away from me emotionally and mentally. I forced her to gaze me in the eyes and say anything, but all she did was move me from her lap and get up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I said it was over, and I meant it. Good luck at Worlds, M-Maus,” she said, staring down at the ground. I knew she was lying by the way she avoided eye contact even when I went to her, but I also knew not to push her or else she shut me out for a while. I learned that the hard way. I stopped crying, worried with Luisa’s behavior. She seemed frantic, almost paranoid, in a way. I had never seen her like this, and I suddenly didn’t give a shit about my feelings. I cupped her face in my palms, feeling the warmth I missed so much, and lightly pushed our foreheads together. Her eyebrows furrowed in discomfort of something, and she pulled me against her by the waist. “If you’re sure this is the end, then say so and I won’t so much as look at you again,” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. “I don’t want it to be, but I have to to protect you from me,” she confessed, switching her grip to imitate mine.

“Alright, Moose. I g-guess this is goodbye . . . forever.” We both cried at our resignation of our love we had so passionately. “I guess it is, Maus.” We kissed like no other kiss we ever had in our lives, the burning desire to stay with each other disintegrating our lungs so we no longer breathed correctly afterward. As soon as we broke away, Luisa was walking down the stairs, not looking back for she feared she might’ve stayed if she did. I didn’t glance at the stairs until I heard the door close behind Luisa, and I fell back on my bed, crying harder than ever before. I kept my wailing to a minimum as I showered and got ready for bed. It was nearly two in the morning, and I wondered why Luisa was out of bed so late because she was always the one to go to bed early and wake up early to hold me for a while before making breakfast. I flopped onto my bed and buried myself in my sheets and blankets, soaking up the vague of Luisa. I cried myself to sleep for the millionth time this week, sleep coming in fits.

********

_ Sitting on my bed, I had three options in front of me. All ended with me dead. I finally decided enough was enough. If I couldn’t have Luisa in my life, then I’d rather not have one. Before me sat my three choices for death: razor blades to slice my wrists lengthwise, a massive amount of painkillers to overdose, and a gun to shoot myself. They provided me with the one thing I wanted with varying receiving times. I wanted death and the gun would give it to me as soon as I pulled the trigger. The razor blades would be slower, but still pretty fast. The painkillers, despite their name, would give me the slowest death as my body has to try and digest all of them before it decided that I took too many and kills itself. The indecision was the real thing that would kill me. I had a few hours to myself, which gave me the perfect time to pull forward with my plan, and no matter which one I chose, someone would come looking for me only to find that I’ve killed myself. The next thing they would notice is the note I wrote to Luisa. Luisa specifically. That explained how she ripped my heart apart, how I ruined my life because of it, and how my love for her drove me to the insanity that caused my death. _

_ I haven’t yet killed myself because like I said, the indecision was killing me. I was home alone, the other girls out partying. I opted out on going to the party to celebrate our supposed win at Worlds for I was too stricken with grief over never being able to see Luisa again. The last words she ever said to me were insulting, saying everything had to come an end. I guess that included me. Not like she would mind, she’s the one who wanted to break up. I suddenly heard the elevator ding, signifying that someone was coming or going. I had to decide quickly because if it was anyone who had access to this room, they would for sure find me trying to die. On impulse, I grabbed the gun and made sure it was loaded before placing it at the side of my head. Tears stained my face as I hurriedly placed my finger on the trigger and whispered, “Goodbye, Moose. I loved you.” A swift tug of the semi-automatic and— _

  
I shot up straight in bed, a cold sweat coating my body. I couldn’t catch my breath until I was clutching my chest, feeling my heart pound out of me. I worried if that nightmare was going to come true if I truly wanted to kill myself after Worlds because Luisa didn’t want me anymore. I began sobbing into my hands as I realized it was all true. I _did_ want to kill myself because Luisa didn’t want me anymore. And I _did_ want to do it after Worlds, regardless if we lost or not. I only hoped someone, _anyone_ would stop me before I hit the ground hard.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to write this when I originally posted. I changed a few things in the Riff Off.
> 
> The categories are in this order:
> 
> Songs About Butts  
> 90's Hip Hop Jams  
> I Dated John Mayer  
> Punk Love (DSM & Bella face off)

I just came home from a hook up with Luke when I saw it. The red letter that invited the Bellas to a Riff Off was perched in the mailbox flag so it would be received immediately. I took it inside and after Chloe opened it and explained what it was, I went upstairs to cry and wallow in self-pity while possibly cutting myself another time or two. It was January, and Luke and I have basically been fuck buddies for a good two months. We were nothing but a casual fuck every now and then. I didn’t mind it because we usually got shit housed before we got down to it so he wouldn’t question me about my life and such. I didn’t think anything of the Riff Off until we got there and the first thing that caught my attention was the interjection, “Tiny Maus! We meet again!” Luisa and DSM apparently were invited, and I wasn’t happy about it one bit. I was, in fact, very pissed off because it seemed like I couldn’t get her out of my life. Cutting her out of my life didn’t work because scars lined my left arm and started to my right, and she still came back. I had a massive amount of cover up on my arms, and I was hoping no one noticed how unnaturally clear my arms were. Luisa was wearing tight leather pants, a long sleeve mesh crop top where I could clearly see her black bra through the fabric, and her hair was up in a bun with the rest playing around her shoulders.

Pieter was standing right next to her, and he snickered, “Another verbal beat down. Highlight of my day.” Luisa took over from there, insulting me like normal. Ever since that night back in November, I couldn’t stop trying to figure out what was wrong with Luisa that would make her want to break up with me. I read and reread the note she slipped me at the Car Show, eventually remembering what the last phrase meant. The park and its secrets? What did she mean by that? We told each other so many secrets at that park in Germany, it was pretty hard to know which one she was talking about. I mean, there was the secret of her enjoying watching kids movies when she was bored. Then there was the one about her being kidnapped for her blonde hair and blue eyes, which landed her some serious therapy. Finally, there was the secret of her being adopted at age six, which really surprised me because she looks so much like her (adoptive) mother. I didn’t see what any of those minute pieces of information had to do with her desire to break up with me. When I was paying attention to anything I was doing, I was being dragged away from Luisa and Pieter by Chloe, who had seen me have a complete mental break down in front of Luisa. A gong rang in the center of the room, and we all gathered with our teams, we were next to DSM. The host introduced the groups, DSM giving a “D-S-M, Ja!” and explained the rules.

The first category: Songs About Butts. DSM went first, opting for “Thong Song”, then the Tone Hangers came in with, “Shake Your Booty”. Stacie was chosen next, singing “Low” and dropping down in front of Luisa. I couldn’t say that I was jealous, but I definitely wasn’t happy that Luisa seemed to enjoy it. The Green Bay Packers (They were an acapella group?!) went next with, “Bootylicious” and the Trebles went gong when Benji changed the lyrics to “Baby Got Back”. The second category: 90’s Hip Hop Jams. The Tone Hangers were selected first, choosing, “This Is How We Do It” by Montell Jordan. Soon, Cynthia-Rose was chosen, and she sang “Doo Wop (That Thing)” by Lauryn Hill. Once the host was satisfied with her song, he pointed to Clay Matthews only to be disappointed because Clay didn’t have anything. They were gong, and the only three teams that remained was us, Tone Hangers, and DSM. The third category: I Dated John Mayer. I dated Luisa Meyer for four years, but no song came out of that so I couldn’t do anything. I stayed to the back and let the rest of the girls take over for the time being. DSM started with the stereotypical “A Thousand Miles” by Vanessa Carlton, doing ridiculous robotic moves I just wanted to laugh at. Chloe was pointed at next, and as if reading my mind, she sang “We Are Never Getting Back Together”, getting all in DSM’s face. She still didn’t know about my break up, and quite frankly, I didn’t want to tell her because that required a little something called “Motivation”, which I had none of whatsoever. Bumper came in next and implied John Mayer and Tina Turner was a thing. The Tone Hangers were gong, and that left DSM and us left to tackle the fourth and final category.

Punk Love. I couldn’t have been happier to sing because that’s all I’ve been listening to this entire year. I started making a list of what to sing in my head when the host picked DSM, more specifically Luisa, to go first. She started singing the lyrics to the song “I Miss You” by Blink-182. “Where are you? And I’m so sorry. I can not sleep, I can not dream tonight . . . “ Luisa sounded like she was actually sincere about the lyrics she was singing as she stared at me most of the time. I couldn’t help but stare back at her and think she was really missing me. Then, I remembered how she said we couldn’t be together because of reasons she hasn’t told me, that’s when the rage built inside me. I saw the host about to pick someone from our team, so I stepped in front of everyone, and he chose me. I cut Luisa off and sang My Chemical Romance’s “I Don’t Love You”. I came straight for her, glared her in the face, and nearly screamed, “Sometimes I cry so hard from pleading. So sick and tired of all the needless beating. But baby when they knock you, down and out, it's where you oughta stay. And after all the blood that you still owe, another dollar's just another blow. So fix your eyes and get up, better get up. While you can. Whoa, whoa! When you go, would you even turn to say, ‘I don't love you. Like I did yesterday’.” I could tell she was slightly hurt by my song choice, but she didn’t have the right to say she missed me when  _ she _ broke up with  _ me. _

Then the host pointed back at Luisa, wanting to see where this went, and she cut me off with, “Your second-hand smoke, second-hand smoke. I breathe you in, but honey I don't know what you're doing to me, ma chérie but the truth catches up with us eventually. Try to say live, live and let live, but I'm no good, good at lip service. Except when I'm yours, mi amor. I'm coming for you and I'm making war. And I still love the way you hurt me . . . “ Her song was “Irresistible” by Fall Out Boy, and she was singing it at the top of lungs. She forced me back to my group by stepping toward me, her expression reading slightly pissed off and kind of pleading. I assumed I was the only one who was reading these signs Luisa was giving off and felt my heart start pounding in my chest. I fell into line with my other friends and knew what song to sing next. I stepped forward as the host picked me again and started belting out the lyrics to “Bulletproof Love” by Pierce the Veil. I cut Luisa off at “Oh,” and continued with that. “My love for you was bulletproof, but you’re the one who shot me. And Goddamn it, I can barely say your name. So I’ll try to write it, and fill the pen with blood from the sink! Whoa!” I skipped to the chorus to make my point because not many people knew the real meaning of the song, but I knew Luisa did. “I’ll sing along, ‘cause I don’t know any other song. I’ll sing along, but I’m barely hanging on. No, I’m barely hanging on. By the time you’re hearing this, I’ll already be gone. And now there’s nothing to do, but tear my voice apart. Nothing to do, but scream at the drunken moon.”

I was surprised I was able to sing for that long, and suddenly Luisa cut me off, singing “A Love Like War” by All Time Low. “And the bitch of it all is that I'm running from the desire of the people to whom I belong. At the end of the day, you can tell me I'm wrong 'cause you went to all of this trouble,” she sang, musically telling me that she’s running from my desire for her. She was cut off pretty soon by Emily, who flipped out and started singing her original song. The host began to scold her for using an original piece, but Luisa and I were staring each other down. I could see the pain written all over her face as she saw the raging hatred and malice I had for her, which was the mask for the overwhelming love splurging underneath. I desperately wanted to go off on her, pound my fists into her as I swore obscenities to relieve the mix of emotions I was bottling up. Our exchange of songs was a musical argument, using lyrics as our feelings and the beat to each song as the pulse of our hearts. Understandably, it had been one of our first arguments in months, but when I thought about it, that was our first two-sided argument. The other times were one of us screaming at the other about what they did wrong. God, I wanted to cry because I knew I hurt Luisa with a few of my songs, but then her face lit up when DSM won. Thanks, Emily. Real confidence builder for Worlds. I tried to ignore the fact we lost as I went to console Emily before Chloe came over and scolded her.

After that, DSM started singing a parody of “Jump” and I went to sit down at the bar. I spaced out from the party for a while until Chloe came up to me and practically begged me to take shots with her. I wanted to tell her, “No” because I knew I would take things too far, and make more bad decisions involving being alone in a bathroom. I should’ve been in bed, but I loved it when I fell for all my habits. I agreed, and we both were glad the bartender said it was an open bar. Great, never ending spiral there I went. We did about three shots before we got cocktails and Chloe left to dance. As I saw her distracted, I gulped down the rest of my drink and ordered another. I was starting to feel tipsy, and the rush of alcohol went to my head, giving me the high I wished I had during the competition. I turned around in my seat after I was almost completely drunk, and I looked around the room for something to do besides drowning my sorrows in alcohol. My eyes reached a dark corner across the room to the right, and I saw Luisa propped up against a wall with a drink in her hand, her face an annoyed one. I was sure it had to do with the guy in front of her. The guy was dressed like Pieter, guyliner and all, but it certainly wasn’t Pieter. This guy had about the same shade of blonde hair as Luisa, and I assumed he had blue eyes too, standing at about six foot four.

He was holding her fairly close to her hips, and her free hand was resting on the side of the guy’s neck. Luisa took a sip from the beer she was drinking and held it in her mouth for a few seconds before she swallowed. It was obvious the guy was into her, and it kind of made me laugh to think that he didn’t know she was gay and hit on her anyway. I fixed my gaze on their interaction and watched as my emotions bounced around from one to the next to the next, and so forth. Joy was the first my mind stopped at. The guy was standing there and was complimenting Luisa in an attempt to woo her with the cliche pickup lines. It was honestly the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time. Confusion was next as the guy stepped closer to Luisa and Luisa did nothing to stop him or push him away. Maybe she was drunk, and he was trying to take advantage of her? In which case, I would go over and beat the hell out of him because even though we’re not dating, girls gotta look out for each other. My confusion ended when I remembered Luisa can down about nine drinks before she is tipsy. That’s when jealousy kicked in. The guy was almost flush against Luisa, and their lips close enough to kiss if either one leaned in. Before I could register what was happening, the guy kissed Luisa, and she just stood there. I felt my cheeks flame with rage, and jealousy as I watched the brief kiss. Luisa pushed the guy away slightly, but then she looked him in the face and held him by the cheek while she kissed him a bit needily. Then hurt struck me. How could she do this to me? Tell me she’s gay, then voluntarily kiss a guy? I didn’t want to watch them, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

Then Luisa broke away from the kiss and turned her head to the side to drink some more beer. Her eyes lifted up as she tilted the bottle back to take a swig and she met my eyes in shock. She knew I saw what she just did, and her reaction clearly showed it. She choked on the drink she took, covering her mouth with her other hand, and coughing a few times. The guy in front of her backed up a few inches to allow her to get air and followed her gaping to me. I huffed out a breath and finished the drink I had, which I barely touched watching their scene. I hopped off my barstool and glared at Luisa once more before storming off and up the stairs to find somewhere to be alone. I knew I was going to harm myself, but this time, it was purely because I thought Luisa couldn’t have been more of a lying bitch if she had a nametag that said so.


	6. Chapter 6

I stormed up the stairs drunkenly in an attempt to find a bathroom where I can relieve some stress on myself. The scene replayed through my mind like a broken record and eventually escalated to new heights.  _ Luisa pressed against a wall and making out with some guy I didn’t even know. Then, him lifting her off the ground and wrapping her legs around his waist as he slid her leather pants down her legs— _ I had to stop that thought from going any further because I didn’t think I could handle imagining Luisa enjoying anything other than my company. I missed her so badly, but I was too proud to let myself fall into that hole of broken promises and lies. On those nights when I felt so alone and Luke couldn’t solve it, I reminisced on the moments we shared in high school in Germany. We weren’t dating at the time, but there was the tenderness of a relationship.  _ Her warm body in the pouring cold rain standing under a multicolored umbrella with me wrapped in her arms tightly as we walked back to her house. Even though we were getting soaking wet because the umbrella was close to ineffective, we still reveled in the feeling of each other. When we got back to her house, we had to take showers so we didn’t get sick, and while I don’t want to explain in full details, I have to say that was the first time we saw each other naked. Long story short, I opened the shower curtain and she was standing by the sink, filing her nails like it was the most normal thing ever to see close friends naked. I later found out that she was debating getting in with me and she had hadn’t yet decided when I stepped out. _

I opened a random door and was thanking the heavens when I saw the sink and toilet. I turned on the light and stumbled inside, forgetting to lock the door behind me. I leaned heavily onto the sink with one hand on either side. I looked up into the mirror and the first thing I noticed was how bloodshot my eyes were. The white in my eyes was now a light pink color from all of my drinking. My eyes wandered down my body, taking in how much I looked like shit, and they landed on my forearms, my left one covered with thin, purple lines and my right, starting on the path toward similar purple lines, but those were currently red because I just made those yesterday. As I remembered what it felt like to carve the lines into my skin, I found I could barely breathe because there was a mix of surprise and pleasure. I knew I liked to do this to myself, but deep down I thought that no one would ever love me again for it. I didn’t even love myself because of them. I had grown tolerant of my presence in life, and it was that quiet tolerance that kept me alive. I knew when I was going to die, I just wanted to see if anyone would notice how much I was hurting and do something about it. That was in November. Now, I was just hanging on to see how far I would push myself before I finally fell off the cliff and killed myself.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small plastic container. It was about the size of a phone, which made it easy to conceal on me, and ironically, it used to be a first-aid kit. I opened the case to find my razor blades and a sharpener in case I needed to sharpen them. I laid the case down on the edge of the sink, picked up one of the blades and sharpened it. Once I was satisfied with the edge, I held the blade between my thumb and two forefingers on my left hand and balled my right hand into a fist, my forearm facing the ceiling. I pressed the blade to the middle of my forearm and dragged it across my skin, a straight cut forming in my flesh. Blood started leaking out, and I let it drain into the sink so it was easy to wash out. I cut myself again below that one, and again above the original. I now had three bleeding lines that remind me of the dirty crimes that were perfectly form fitted to me, and I winced at the pain every time I moved. I set my left hand, which held the blade, on the opposite side of the sink and breathed my way through the throbbing in my arm. It continued to bleed, and that’s when someone walked in. I’m sure they knocked, but I was too far gone from the pain that I didn’t hear. I spun around and gripped the edge of the sink with both hands, the blade making a high pitched, “Clink!” as it hit the porcelain sink. My forearms were facing the mirror, which faced the door, and I felt blood trickle down my right arm as it started to pool underneath my hand. I looked up to the person that barged in, and my eyes widened as my breathing stopped.

Luisa stood frozen, half in the door, half out, and stared at me blankly. After a second, she relaxed from shock and stepped in. She closed and locked the door behind her, wanting privacy. She stood a few feet in front of me and crossed her arms across her chest calmly. She looked down at the ground as she breathed out deeply, finally meeting my intense gaze. “Can I talk to you about something?” she asked, being dead serious about her question. The bleeding on my arm had stopped, and I completely forgot my arm was trailed with blood as I turned away from her back to the sink. My move revealed the small puddle of blood to my left and turned my forearms upward, exposing my many cuts and bloodied arm. I turned on the sink to wash off my blade, and said, “If this has to do with that guy I saw you with, don’t even bother. I don’t care who you sleep with, as long I’m not involved.” She seemed to have at least noticed the blood on the sink because I heard heels against the tile and she was closer when I glanced back at her through the mirror. Her expression was slightly worried, and her arms uncrossed as she tried to reach out to me. I shrugged her hand away from me, drying off the blade and placing it back in the case, and I went to wash off my arm. She was right behind me when she realized what I had done to myself, and what I was trying to cover up. She gasped and looked like she was about to cry as if the sight of my obvious pain hurt her. “Maus? What have you done to yourself?” she whimpered. Tears started to streak her face when I looked plainly into her eyes through the mirror.

My nonchalance at the horrifying scene must’ve scared her more because she cried more, covering her mouth with her hand. I scoffed harshly at her reaction, and quickly washed my arm, drying it off as quickly. I then cleaned up the sink of the remaining blood, wishing our host didn’t notice the vague outline. I slid my case into my pocket and turned around, hoping to get away from Luisa. She had no such intentions of letting me leave as she placed her hands firmly on either side of me, trapping me in between. Her face was a foot in front of mine, all soft and emotional like the Luisa I knew in high school, and I glared at her annoyed. I didn’t show any emotion because I didn’t feel any, and I thought that hurt her more. She stared at me pleadingly and wept, “W-Why would you do that to yourself? Why, Beca?” My heart fluttered at the sound of my actual name, but I just sighed loudly as I realized she knew what I did. She gazed at me intently, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to escape from her if she didn’t want me to. Judging by the way she pressed me back against the sink with a single step forward, I knew she was going to force me to talk. Her face faltered again when she breathed out, “Why? Beca. Why?”

She was closer the second time she asked, and I could see the ocean of blue worry creating massive waves of tears that crashed onto the shores of her lower eyelids and poured out in cascades of overwhelming pain. Her sincerity is what broke me. I thought I was being strong until I started crying, burying my face in my hands to avoid looking at Luisa. I cried into my hands for a few minutes before I started ranting, “I’m so sorry. I was so alone and you weren’t there to comfort me and I thought you didn’t love me anymore and, and, and I  just couldn’t take the pain anymore!” Hearing my reasons, Luisa pulled me into her chest and feverishly kissed the side of my head down to my shoulder. One of her hands tangled in my hair at the back of my head, and her other arm found its way around my waist, keeping our bodies together. Her warmth radiated from her like I knew it to, and it made me cry more, knowing that she still knew how to hold me. I melted into her shoulder, wrapping my arms around her waist carefully. I snuggled into her hard body, and lightly kissed her collarbone a few times. After we both had calmed down enough to stop crying, she pulled away a bit to ask me, “Can I see them?” I nodded, breathing in deeply. I untangled my arms from her waist and held them up, forearms facing her. Luisa gasped at the number, and took one of my forearms in each of her hands gently, questioning shakily, “You did this because I broke up with you?” I hated to admit it, especially to her, but I knew I couldn’t lie because she could see through it. I squeezed my eyes shut and whispered, “Yes, Moose. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have.”

“Never be sorry for what I have caused,” she whimpered, kissing me warmly on the mouth. “If anything, I’m sorry for putting you through so much pain,” she continued, placing kisses one by one on each of my scars starting with my left. Typically when I touched the scars, they would hurt the slightest bit, but when Luisa’s soft lips caressed my skin, all I felt was warmth and softness. The only pain I felt was in my heart as my pulse was sent racing with the love coursing through my veins. I cried as I felt her breath permeate my skin when she whispered, “I’m sorry, Maus,” in between her loving kisses. Then, she moved to my right forearm, which was incredibly sensitive. She released my left forearm and paid close attention to my right, holding my hand. Each time she kissed lightly, she ran one of her fingers over the scar as if she could cure them with love. With the proper treatment, my physical scars could heal, but my emotional and mental scars were the ones that required love to heal. I didn’t know whether Luisa would love me again, but if she didn’t, I knew I was a goner for sure. She finished kissing up my right arm and noticed how much I was crying because of the act. She held both sides of my face and kissed each of my eyes, wiping my cheeks with her thumbs.

When my face was clear of tears, she pressed a long, passionate kiss to my forehead, pulling me into a comforting hug. She lightly swayed back and forth, which calmed me while making me tired. She kissed the top of my head before she kindly proposed, “I know it’ll only be for tonight, but can I please take you to my hotel and care for you?” I looked up at her and asked, “Will you love me in that time?” She gave me a small smile as she caressed my cheek, seeing I desperately wanted to be loved at least for a few hours. “Ja, Maus. I have loved you for a thousand years, and I’ll love you for thousand more.” I had to hold back tears at the sound of the lyrics to our old song, but I managed to say, “Ja, Moose. Bitte, Lieb mich.” At my affirmative, Luisa proceeded to pick me up bridal style like she used to and carry me out of the bathroom. We collected our jackets from Magnolia and headed out to where Luisa had parked her motorcycle. She had it transferred to the United States while she was here so she wouldn’t have to take a taxi. She set me down on the seat and gave me the helmet she got for me years ago, making sure it was secure on me. She put on her own helmet and I held onto her waist as she drove us to her hotel. We parked, and she once again picked me up, but this time I was riding her back. She walked into her hotel and avoided the confused stares from other patrons because only I knew how normal this was her. How normal this was for  _ us. _

She stepped into the elevator, pressing the button to the fourth floor, and waited for the doors to close. On our way up, she glanced at me a few times before finally inquiring, “Why are you staring at me, Maus?” I nuzzled my cheek into her shoulder, kissing her neck, and answered, “Because I had forgotten what it was like to be loved.” It was true. I truly had forgotten what it felt like to be loved, and Luisa was the only one to know what I do to myself but love me anyways. “Oh, Maus. I don’t have any idea what I’ve put you through,” Luisa said glumly, stepping into the hallway. We were at her room not too long afterward, walking into the living room of her suite. We passed the bed on our way to the sofa, and she made me sit down while she went and got some things. She came back with a roll or two of gauze bandages and her hair was let down, falling down in beautiful blonde surges. She kneeled in front of me, sitting back on her heels, and asked me to hold my arms out. One by one, she wrapped my forearms in the gauze bandages, taking caution not to wrap them too tightly so they didn’t hurt. I was still slightly drunk from the party, but I could comprehend things beyond what my state allowed me to. She sat there, staring up at me, and she took both of my hands in hers. “I know I hurt you, and I’m so so so sorry for it. If I had the chance, I would go back and throw that letter out, but I know I can’t. There’s no easy way for me to say this, but I love you, Beca. Always have, always will. And it’s for that reason that I can’t tell you what caused me to break us up. I vowed to myself to protect you at all costs, and I had to break up with you to do that. I know how that sounds, and I understand if you want to slap the shit out of me for saying that. I can’t tell you what has happened now, but I swear on my love to you, I will explain everything when the time comes. For now, please Beca. Don’t hurt yourself anymore. Bitte, meine Maus. Bitte, Einfach nicht tun.” She gazed deeply into my eyes, and I knew she meant what she said. Luisa has only sworn on her love for me only once before, and that was during freshman year when she was leaving back for Denmark and I asked if I would see her again before the end of the school year. This meant far much more than that, and it was written on her face. I pushed a few hairs behind her ear and told her, “Alright, Moose. But I’ll be waiting for you.” I knew I could trust Luisa’s word, and I punctuated my remark with a lingering kiss on her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt the need to say this because I've been thinking about it a lot. With this story specifically, I don't want to misconstrue anybody into thinking that I'm writing this solely for the plot that comes with topics such as self-harm, alcoholism, and harsh break ups because I've been in a similar situation Beca is in. At the beginning of this year, I went through a really bad breakup that caused me to think these dark thoughts involving most of the things Beca goes through. What really helped me get myself under control was this ship: Becommissar. The dynamic between these two characters allowed me to relate emotionally to Beca, but also the mystery behind Kommissar. It also really helped to get such wonderful feedback from you fantastic readers. I know not many people will read this, but I just felt like being honest about all of my stories.


	7. Chapter 7

After Luisa and I changed into some pajamas, we laid on the bed, Luisa behind me propped up on her elbow, and we were watching episodes of  _ Borgen _ that Luisa had downloaded onto her tablet. This was always our favorite show to watch when I was visiting her in Denmark because I always joked that she reminded me of Katrine. She thought otherwise, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t think it. We were laying on our sides, and Luisa was right against my back so I wouldn’t get cold, but I knew it was because she wanted me close. I wanted her as close as I could get her, and I wanted to be loved by her. I snuggled back into her, and she wrapped her arm around my waist, lightly tickling me. I kind of squirmed at the touch, Luisa noticed, and teased me, “I forgot the Tiny Maus was ticklish.” She smirked at me, and I knew I was in for it. I tried to get away before she could capture me, but she was faster than me, and she grounded me to the bed by the waist. I was lying on my back and she carefully straddled my hips so I couldn’t move, giggling as she saw me struggle. She started tickling me on the stomach and I thrashed about, trying to avoid this torture. She laughed along with my forced laughs, and tickled me more, causing me to knock over the tablet. Damn, I really liked that episode. I tried to push her off of me, but she could be a rock when she wanted to and this was one of those times. I pushed against her stomach, hips, and even her chest, but nothing worked. “Sto-ha-ha-ha-ha-hop!” I pleaded, a big dopey grin on my face.

She just smiled and leaned down toward my face, pressing a hand down on either side of my head on the bed. There was a predatory glint in her eyes that always,  _ always _ turned me on for some reason, and paired with her signature smirk, it was arousing. I stopped flailing, my breathing stopped, and we locked eyes, my hands settling on her thighs. Her breathing seemed to slow as well, the predatory glint in her eyes fading to soft love, and she asked, “A-Are you sure you want me to stop?” I swallowed, knowing she wanted to kiss me, and breathed out, “No. Don’t stop.” My hands slid up her thighs to her hips as she lowered herself down onto me, pressing our heating bodies against each others'. Her hands found the sides of my face, our faces two inches apart. Our eyes never strayed from each other’s while my hands imitated Luisa’s, holding her beautiful face in the palms of my hands. We could feel the sexual tension rising the longer we held each other’s intoxicating gaze, and slowly our lips gravitated toward each other’s, a hair width apart. The next second, we were both enveloped in a sweet kiss that closed our eyes. We pulled away from that kiss and almost immediately went back into another one, this time a bit sweeter and insistent. Kiss after kiss, we gained a little bit of a tempo of increasing desire and arousal. Luisa moved her hands to my waist, and I wrapped my arms around her neck, slightly scratching her with the gauze around my forearms.

She pulled away a little, looking me in the eyes, and confirmed, “Do you want to do this?” Her eyes were veiled with desire and I could see the want in her irises, causing me to want her more. I breathed out slowly, pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear, and told her, “I want you to love me.” She kissed me again, whispering, “Alright, Maus. I’ll love you.” She kissed down my neck as her hands slid under my shirt, the feeling of her warmth on my skin a wonderful memory. She took off my shirt and threw it to the side, kissing my chest and down my stomach. My hands tangled in her hair the closer she got to my shorts, and soon those were off too. It was no problem for her to remove the rest of my clothes, and leave me naked beneath her. She came back to my face, and I kissed her a few times before turning onto her back to take off her clothes. She let me get her shirt and bra off, but grabbed my hands when I tried to get her shorts off. I looked up to her face and saw nothing but apprehension, which was very unusual for her. “If you keep going, please don’t judge me,” she requested, being shyer than me in public areas. I kissed her stomach, and told her, “I’ll never judge you. For anything.” Her expression relaxed a bit, and I pulled off the remaining clothes. I knew instantly what she meant by judge because just below where her waistband would be was a tattoo of a swastika. I looked at her with a curious expression, and she pulled me back up to her. She flipped us onto my back, and explained, “It’s one of those things I have to explain when the time comes. Don’t worry, I am not a white supremacist.”

I knew Luisa wouldn’t lie about something so severe so I let it go, and we continued our actions. I held her cheeks while she held my waist and we kissed as our slow grinding began. Eventually, we both were dying from desire and lust that we had to pull away for a second. “Can we do this under the blanket? I feel just a bit exposed right now,” I asked, wanting privacy. She nodded her head, “Ja, Maus. I would prefer that too.” As we got ourselves under the covers, I picked up Luisa’s tablet and started a playlist I created for our relationship. I was surprised she hadn’t deleted it yet, but propped up the tablet so we could hear the music clearly. We settled under the blankets, Luisa on top of me gently, and continued our sweet kisses. This encounter didn’t equate to the many other times we made love, nor did it equate to the hookups I had with Luke. This was different from everything else as if there was something else between us that prevented this to be pure desire for each other. It wasn’t until the song “Just Give Me A Reason” came on that I realized what was happening between us. What made this different from everything was the many secrets we kept from each other. I was still hiding my suicide plan from her, and she was hiding so many things I couldn’t imagine what was with her. The one thing that we weren’t hiding from each other was the fact we loved each other and that was confirmed by the way we kissed so gently.

Luisa’s hand drifted in between my legs when my hand did the same between her legs. She pulled away from the kisses and pressed her forehead to mine, opening her eyes. We watched each other’s reactions as we slid two fingers into each other, gasping at the old feeling that had every sentiment it once did. Luisa was soft against me and her hand was kind to me, pumping in and out at a rate that showed devotion yet determination. We stared at each other as the next song started. It was then that I realized I chose the wrong playlist and ended up playing the playlist that we cried to when we needed a good cry. Coincidentally, this was one of those times. We both were scared for the future, each other’s future, and our own. I couldn’t help but think about what I was going to do in May, regardless if Luisa had told me her secrets before then. She told me we couldn’t be together and I simply couldn’t handle that. It was this fear that kept our pace slow and gradually built our orgasms. We wanted to take our time because this would be the last time in months that we would be able to see or speak to one another. We kissed a few more times before looking at each other again, tears forming in our eyes. The song “BLUE” was playing, and it didn’t help that we both had blue eyes so the lyrics meant a lot more than they should have. I cupped Luisa’s cheek with my free hand and she leaned into my touch immediately, a few tears seeping from her shut eyes. Those tears landed on my face, and caused a few of my tears to fall from my eyes.

After a few minutes, our breathing came in gasps and we came softly, the intense pleasure shooting through our bodies. We barely let out a single moan, the subtle groans being enough for our satisfaction. We cleaned our fingers, and just laid there, listening to the music. My arms were around Luisa’s neck as I held her forehead to mine, occasionally kissing her. All we did was think, and we started crying to the sad songs, wishing this were a different scenario. Luisa moved her head into the crook of my neck, and all she did was cry and whimper. “I’m sorry it has to be this way,” she peeped, turning her head to look at me. “Look, Luisa. I know there are things you want to tell me that you can’t for some reason, but if all you can tell me is ‘I love you’, I could live for a little longer and wait for you to tell me the reason,” I explained, kissing the side of her head repeatedly. This made her cry more, consequently forcing more tears out of me, and she held me tighter. We rolled onto our side, and she wrapped her legs around mine, holding me against her. She held me by the waist, and I by her neck. We pressed our faces together and mourned for our forbidden relationship, our warm bodies offering comfort. This turned out to be much more therapeutic than I had once thought because we both felt better after we finished crying. We kissed again, and then we turned everything off, going to sleep in each other’s arms.

********

I woke up twice that night, feeling Luisa break away from me. The first time I woke up was when I heard Luisa screaming, “Ich habe es dir schon gesagt! Sie ist nur ein Freund, der wirklich betrunken war und Hilfe brauchte!” She was trying to keep her voice down to try and not wake me, but I clearly heard the argument. Everything was still a bit fuzzy and I could barely understand what they were saying because understanding German requires me to be fully awake, or at least not slightly hung over. I then heard a male voice, shouting back at Luisa, “Es ist mir egal, wer sie ist! Ich will nur wissen, ob du mit ihr schlief!” Luisa was clearly agitated by the man’s accusation, and spouted, “Warum ist es wichtig, wenn ich mit ihr schlief? Es ist nicht so, dass es das ändern wird, was du mir angetan hast!” I couldn’t see them because my back was to them, but I could tell Luisa was somewhat afraid of the person she was screaming at. “Also hast du mit ihr geschlafen Ich sollte dich wirklich in deinen Platz bringen, um so etwas zu tun,” the man groaned, sounding like he was pissed off. “Ja, ich habe mit ihr geschlafen, weil ich sie liebe! Sie haben uns zusammengebrochen und sie ist fast davon getötet!” Luisa sneered. I wiped the sleep from my eyes and sat up, yawning, “Moose? Where are you?”

The nuy noticed my naked upper body before I did, and turned back to Luisa, clasping a hand around her lower jaw and insulting, “Sie ficken Schlampe!” I saw the man and quickly covered myself. I couldn’t see any of his features in the darkness, but I saw Luisa struggle to free herself of his grip. “Wh-What’s happening?” I asked in desperation for Luisa’s safety. Lusa glared at the man in front of her, remarking, “Willst du es ihr sagen, oder solltest du sie schlafen lassen?” The man released his hand, and Luisa shot him a look before climbing back in bed next to me. She laid me back down, my back to the guy, and buried my face in her chest, coaxing me back to sleep. She had on a black bra and matching underwear, and I was about to fall back asleep when she told the guy sternly, “Verdammt dich nicht!” With a kiss to my temple, I was out in seconds.

The second time I woke up was closer to dawn than midnight, and it was because Luisa was rambling to herself. I rolled over and found she had her back to me, not in the blankets. I moved to her and wrapped my arm around her waist only for her to rip it away with a vicious, “Nein! Ich habe dir gesagt, dass du das aufhalten sollst!” I looked her in the face and saw she was still asleep, only talking in her sleep as if she was speaking from her dreams. She twitched, her eyebrows pulled together in frustration, and I mentally translated all she said. “No! I don’t want to pretend anymore! It hurts her too much. Why do you need me anyway?! You’re a sick bastard, you know that?!” I was alarmed by her vague argument, and shook her to wake her up. After a few shakes, she woke up with a jolt, eyes snapping open. “Moose, I’m here. Calm down,” I called to her, turning her onto her back to face me. Her eyes were wildly searching for something to ground her in the present, and I positioned myself above her to be her anchor. She caught sight of my eyes, and held my head still as she breathed herself to sanity again. When she was calm enough to speak semi-properly, she whimpered, “M-Maus? Hilf mir. Bitte, Maus.” I nearly cried seeing Luisa so helpless, but I kissed her sweetly to relieve her tensions. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me down to her, hiding herself from the rising sun.

I kissed her neck and pulled us both underneath the blanket, warming us up. She just stayed right there, clinging to me like a scared child with her arms and legs around my hips, and we fell back asleep until we had to leave for our normal lives. I wondered what could’ve caused such a reaction from Luisa, but I felt she would explain when the time came, if the time came. I only hoped I’d make it out of this last year of college alive and get Luisa back. That was only if I could prevent the inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Ich habe es dir schon gesagt! Sie ist nur ein Freund, der wirklich betrunken war und Hilfe brauchte! - I already told you! She's just a friend who was really drunk and needed help!
> 
> Es ist mir egal, wer sie ist! Ich will nur wissen, ob du mit ihr schlief! - I don't care who she is! I just want to know if you slept with her!
> 
> Warum ist es wichtig, wenn ich mit ihr schlief? Es ist nicht so, dass es das ändern wird, was du mir angetan hast! - Why does it matter if I slept with her? It's not like it'll change what you've done to me!
> 
> Also hast du mit ihr geschlafen Ich sollte dich wirklich in deinen Platz bringen, um so etwas zu tun - So you did sleep with her? I should really put you in your place for doing such a thing.
> 
> Ja, ich habe mit ihr geschlafen, weil ich sie liebe! Sie haben uns zusammengebrochen und sie ist fast davon getötet! - Yes, I did sleep with her because I love her! You made us break up and she's nearly killed herself because of it!
> 
> Sie ficken Schlampe! - You fucking slut!
> 
> Verdammt dich nicht! - Don't you fucking touch her!
> 
> Nein! Ich habe dir gesagt, dass du das aufhalten sollst! - No! I told you to stop that!
> 
> M-Maus? Hilf mir. Bitte, Maus. - Maus? Help me. Please, Maus.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is super angsty.

I laid on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, and thought about the months to come. No doubt they’d be horrible, but I at least had to survive until after Worlds, then I would leave. It’s been about a month since I had seen Luisa last, felt the touch of her lips on mine, and knew what it was like to be loved. She didn’t tell anyone about my suicidal actions, and I was thankful for that because it meant I wouldn’t be forced into therapy I knew would never work. Therapy never worked for me because it always required me to open up to complete strangers, and I wasn’t going to share my deep-seeded feelings of pain and hurt to someone I hardly knew for five minutes. I thought I was better off keeping my demons inside me and never letting anyone but Luisa know of them. Sure, it constantly kept me in a nightmare, but I had grown tolerant of this hell I was living, once again growing numb to the pain of isolation. The white ceiling above me acted as a canvas for me to mentally paint a picture of what my thoughts were. Every time I did this, the picture was always resembling a dark abyss with one speck of light that was uncertain. Luisa was this speck of light. The only hope I had left in my life, and even she wasn’t always there. Physically or mentally. To me, she was like a combination of the sun and moon. Bright and warm like the sun, but not always there like the moon.

My astrological metaphor of my lost lover tore in half when Amy accidentally ran into the table by the stairs. She looked at me like she was really triggered and held out her arms as she said, “What? A girl can’t say she’s going out for a smoothie, then return fourteen hours later? There’s nothing weird about that.” I disregarded her statement since I already knew she was hooking up with Bumper and sat back up to fiddle with my laptop, which I had left open. She walked past me into the closet behind me to my left, and asked, “Are you working on the set?” I responded fairly robotically, “Yeah . . . no, I’m not working on the set.” She came back out in some pajamas and sat on her bed across from me. I sighed heavily, shutting my laptop, and turned to face her. “You know, if you want to tell me anything, I’m like a safe. That locks with a key, and the key is stashed up my bum,” Amy explained, making a motion to her backside. I shook my head and told her, “Nothing. It’s fine.”

“So this has nothing to do with Luisa breaking up with you?”

“What?” Her question caught me off guard, and I kind of freaked out, unconsciously hiding my arms. She looked at me seriously and said, “Come on, Beca. It’s like that thing we do every month where I take twenty dollars from your purse and you pretend not to notice.” I was concerned by her easy confession, but she continued, “I saw the letter . . . and the razors.” I froze in my place as she got up and walked to me. “Why didn’t you tell any of us? Or at least Chloe?” She looked like she was about to cry, and I nearly cried knowing Amy was slightly hurt. I backed away from her, saying, “I don’t know. It’s just easier.” I avoided her gaze as I curled into a ball, tucking my arms in between my legs and chest. She sat down in front of me, stared at me gently, and commanded, “Let me see them, Bec. I knew she was talking about my arms, and I cautiously shook my head, tears threatening to spill. She moved closer to me and held my biceps softly as she coaxed my arms out of their entrapment. I was wearing long sleeves like I typically did nowadays, and I didn’t stop Amy when she slid them up my arms, revealing all the self-inflicted scars. The good part was that I had only added one new cut to my skin since I saw Luisa last so it didn’t look as bad as one would think.

I cried when my sleeves were pulled up enough to show Amy all of the pain I caused myself and whimpered when Amy held my wrists firmly. I didn’t whimper because her grip hurt, but because I knew I couldn’t hide anything else from Amy. Before she could do anything else, I started rambling, “I’m sorry, Amy. I never meant to hurt anyone, but I ended up hurting people anyway. I just couldn’t take it anymore. Luisa didn’t want me, and I felt so lost and alone I couldn’t stop myself. I started drinking a lot more than usual, and then once I started cutting, I-I-I—”

“Shhh, calm down, Beca. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not! Now, you’re going to have to tell Chloe and send me to therapy and—” I tore my arms away from Amy’s grip and covered myself with them as I cried into my lap, wishing Luisa was with me to comfort me. Amy allowed me to cry for some time before she tenderly pried my arms away from me, and forced me to look at her. She looked into my eyes and told me, “My moral obligation as a friend is to help you in a way that is beneficial to you. If you don’t think therapy will help, then I won’t make you go, but you need to at least talk to me every once and a while so I can know how you’re doing. Can you at least do that?” I nodded, knowing I could trust Amy and uncurled myself. I sat up as straight as I could, and Amy said, “Alright, short stuff. I’ve pried enough for tonight. We have that performance tomorrow so I’ll let you get some sleep. But know that I may not be able to hold myself back if I see her at Worlds.” She got off my bed and laid down on hers, pulling a blanket over herself. I watched her carefully, and before she turned off the lamp, I shyly mumbled, “Thank you, Amy.”

“No problem. Our secret. Now, get to sleep.” Our secret. I had someone who cared. I went to sleep that night with a new hope for my limited future.

********

We fucked up. Badly, and I felt that hope die instantly. There was no way we were going to beat DSM at Worlds, not a single chance. Our props didn’t function correctly, and Cynthia-Rose was set on fire. Overall, the Convention Center performance turned out to be just another reason for me to kill myself. I knew it was drastic to say that, but the failed performance proved that I had no skill as a composer and that there was no point in trying to face DSM because we’d just make fools of ourselves. I refrained from creating a new scar on my arm with a knowing look from Amy, and Luisa’s request replaying in my mind. At this point, I was only hanging on for very few people and not one of them was myself. We sat in the van afterward, and we all tried to forget what happened, but Chloe certainly wasn’t going to let us. She stood up, glared at all of us, and said, “Are we going to ignore what just happened back there?” This caught everyone’s attention, especially Cynthia-Rose’s as she shouted, “Why are you yelling at me?! I was almost burnt to death by you aca-bitches!” Her rage made everyone else really upset, and the blame game went on for a good minute or two. Finally, when everyone was thoroughly pissed off, Chloe stepped in and quieted everyone. She stood tall in front of us all, and declared, “There’s only one thing to do in times like these. We’re going on a retreat.”

********

A couple days later, we pulled into some resort in the middle of the woods with bags that held clothes for a few days. I stepped off the van with my bags and asked Chloe, “How’d you hear about this place?” My answer came from over my shoulder as a familiar voice said, “From yours truly.” I turned around to see Aubrey in khakis and a matching polo with a bandana around her neck. I knew she was dating Stacie, but did she really have to flaunt her lesbianism through her wardrobe? It was a bad idea to stereotype her based off her outfit, but it was fairly butch. Everyone simultaneously yelled, “Aubrey!” and ran to her, locking her in a group hug. She hugged everyone she could, quickly giving Stacie a kiss, and said, “You must be Emily, hi!” We backed away from her a few feet and I asked, “You run this whole place?” She answered and continued to tell us about her knack for barking orders, then ordered us into a line. There, she proceeded to tell us how much of a disgrace we were to acapella and how Worlds was a shot at redemption. The only thing I wanted to redeem was my relationship with Luisa, but I didn’t talk back while Aubrey told us what we were going to do for the next two days. I couldn’t have dreaded anything more, except the bear traps that were apparently not too far from the paths we were going to take. Forced team activities, yay. I lacked enthusiasm the entire time, which was only a result of how much I didn’t want to be there.

Our first task, as Aubrey put it, was to build our tents and if that wasn’t bad enough, Chloe made one of her typical optimistic comments that secretly pissed me off. I threw my stuff down, huffed out a breath of frustration, and told her, “You’re lucky you’re that pretty.” She looked at me as if she only half understood my cynical remark. It took us the entire day, but we eventually got the tents up only to have one of them smashed by a falling tree. We groaned, but got changed and went to sleep. The next day was complete hell. Between the team building trust exercises and the constant singing, I was really annoyed and didn’t know why we were actually doing any of this. We were sprayed with a hose, covered in mud, and forced to lift each other over a high ass bar, which was supposed to make us stronger as a team and closer as friends. I saw it as ridiculous stunts that were completely pointless and had no significant effect on us. If I wasn’t outraged before, Aubrey’s snarky comment of, “That was two steps from being almost fine,” totally sent me over the edge. I tried to stay as calm as possible when I asked, “I’m sorry what are we doing?” Chloe turned to me, and said, “We’re rediscovering our sound.” I found that hard to believe, and retorted, “Are we? ’Cause it seems like we’re just singing songs that we would never put in our set.” Chloe and Aubrey tried to calm me down, but I wasn’t having any of it. I finally snapped and shouted, “I’ve got more important things to worry about!”

Chloe, clearly upset that I was acting this way, started to get me into an argument when she bitterly interrogated, ““What could be more important than this?” I backed away from everyone, held up my hands, and screamed, “Nothing! Forget it!” Chloe wasn’t giving up that easily, and just continued questioning, “You don’t think we haven’t realized you’ve been a little checked out lately?” Amy came up behind me, placed her hand on my shoulder, and quietly told me, “Beca, just tell her.”

“I heard that. Tell me what?” Chloe asked, glaring at both of us furiously. I shot daggers into Amy’s head with my eyes, and she backed up a bit at my ferocity. Amy tried to play her statement off like she had something different and said, “Oh, you misunderstood me. I clearly said ‘Rum pond, Teca. Rust smell her’.” When her attempt to cool me and Chloe off, she continued, “Listen I don’t want you guys to fight. You’re Beca and Chloe, together you’re Bhloe, and everyone loves a good Bhloe. So . . . “ I knew I couldn’t hide anything from anyone anymore, so I just gave in.

“Okay, I’ve had to handle a lot of my own problems this year. God forbid, I have my own privacy.” Chloe seemed to process some of what I said, but she was still going to pry further. “What problems could you possibly have that didn’t affect us all?” I was too angry to control what I was saying, and roared, “I’ve wanted to kill myself since the beginning of the year!” Chloe’s face contorted into one that told me she was pissed at me for even suggesting something like that. “Why would you even joke about something as serious as that? We all have bad times, that doesn’t mean you have to joke about suicide to make your fucking point!”

I was boiling with all of the emotions I had suppressed for months, and hot tears started pouring down my face as I ripped my sleeves up my arms and shrieked, “Does this look like I’m fucking joking?!” All of my scars were now showing to everyone, and there was no hiding for me. It hurt to be so open, but it hurt more to even breathe now. I felt fire enter my lungs, and I exhaled gruffly, balling my hands into fists. Chloe gasped and began to cry into her hand when she saw the number of times I hurt myself. After I had been exposed for some time, I pulled my sleeves back down and started to walk back to the tent so I could be alone, but Chloe stepped in front of me. I could see how much she broke knowing I had hidden that from her the entire time. It was shaky, but her only question was, “Why would you do that?” I sighed, and stood my ground as I stiffly told her, “Luisa broke up with me months ago.” She gasped again like everyone else who knew how close Luisa and I were. “That’s not the whole story though. I also starting drinking and hooking up with the same guy until I saw Luisa at the Riff Off. My drinking since then hasn’t stopped, but my cutting has mostly,” I finished confessing, staring at the ground.

“Oh, Beca!” Chloe cried, hugging me tightly. The rest of the Bellas followed suit, telling me some form of, “It’s going to be okay.” I was caught in the middle of everybody, crying because I was extremely uncomfortable. “I think that’s a wrap for today,” Aubrey whimpered, embracing Stacie since she could see I was already bombarded.

********

The campfire roast was nice. I confessed to all of my crimes and everyone accepted my state, determined to help me. I explained all of what I knew of Luisa’s situation to the Bellas, and they consoled me, assuring me she’d come back to me if she truly loved me. I knew she did, but there was this small doubt in the back of my mind that told me otherwise. We found our sound again, thanks to the classic song from freshman year, and we shared our plans for after college. Mine was a complete lie. I said I hoped to get a job at Residual Heat, maybe get an apartment with Luisa when and if she decided to come back, and quite possibly live a content life. I actually wanted to say that I wasn’t going to have a life after college because even though I had told the Bellas of my cutting, it didn’t make me feel better like everyone said it would. I felt more scared than I was before, and there was always this sense of anticipation that I would wake up one day with no one to turn to because they didn’t understand what I’ve been through. It was only the end of February, but I knew I had about three months of my life left. I wanted to wait until I saw Luisa one last time to tell her I loved her before I ended my life.

Once we were all finished with our s’mores, etc., we headed back to the tent to sleep. I laid down in my place between Lily and Chloe’s heads and pulled out my phone. I turned it on to see I had one message from Luisa. I had replaced her contact just in case she called or texted me, and she had just sent me a fairly long text. My mood was neutral before I read the text, once I did, I wished Worlds were the next day.

_ Maus, I wish you luck at Worlds. You have a lot at stake there. I’m saying that now because I won’t have phone service at our next few stops on our tour. Also because I have to cut us off entirely. I’m sorry to have to say this, but I don’t love you anymore. After our night in January, I saw how broken you were and knew I wouldn’t be able to fix you so I decided it was best for us to never each other again except in competition. With that said, the next time we see each other, don’t even say “Hello”. Goodbye, Maus. Forever. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, Sorry if this was super angsty.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angsty and emotional. Again. There is good news though.

Copenhagen was nothing new to me, as I have been here several times when I visited Luisa, but now it was gloomier than I remembered. That was because I didn’t feel the same like I did then. Then, I was loving life and loving Luisa. Now, while I still loved Luisa, I was hating life because Luisa wasn’t in mine. Nor would she ever be again, which was why it was going to end in a few hours. I already had the note written out, I made sure of that months ago, and I knew how I was going to do it. Surprisingly, staying on the seventh floor of your hotel really helped, but I wasn’t going to this alone. My lovely friend named Jack Daniel’s was going to join me so I could go out without a memory of what I was doing, which meant I couldn’t stop myself if I got drunk enough. That was for later when everyone was distracted by the after party. Now, I had to get on stage because we were performing in less than an hour. I passed by Emily and Benji as Em kissed Ben, and I interrupted them to get Emily on stage. I acknowledged Benji because I knew he was gay but hadn’t come out to Emily yet so I was slightly amused that she couldn’t read the signs. I gathered the rest of the Bellas with almost no avail and we waited backstage for our performance time. That’s when Luisa and Pieter came up to us, Luisa drying her hands with a tiny towel. As expected, she began insulting us and me particularly.

I had commented that she had really soft hands, and as if she couldn’t upset me more, she bent down and asked me, “I’m sorry, I don’t speak loser, what did you say?” Pieter provided the fact that she spoke eight languages, which I already knew, and Luisa stood back up. She then looked directly at me and said her final words to me. “Everything must come to an end, even the Bellas.” She began to walk away, but I just had to chime in, “Ha! Your sweat smells like cinnamon! Damnit!” I had to plaster my mask on in order to not cry because she hadn’t said anything else, but I knew Luisa would be able to read through it if she would pay attention. We watched DSM’s performance in awe and Chloe gave us a little pep talk to lift our spirits. It certainly boosted the morale of the rest of the group, but I remained stolid underneath the cover of fake joy and happiness. Once DSM finished and their leaders left the stage, we went on in a fit of excitement and laughter. As I was singing our rendition of “Flashlight”, I looked over to the side of the stage and saw Luisa watching us intently, watching  _ me _ intently. I locked eyes with her as best as I could, and I saw the vulnerability enter her face when she realized I was only pretending. Pretending to hold on when I had already let go, pretending to be happy when I was at an all time low, pretending to simply breathe when I choked on every breath. We finished, and we got off stage when the scorecards were collected. Soon after that, we found out the ranks. We won first, DSM second, and Canada third.

All the girls were so excited because we had saved the Bellas, and I was excited because I could finally be alone in three weeks. As all the performance groups all ran to the club for the after party, I hid in one of the dressing rooms until I was sure everyone had left and then walked back to the hotel a mix of solemn and relief. I made my way up to my hotel room and instantly laid down on my bed. I was tired of everything. I was sick of my love for Luisa. I was broken beyond repair. Luisa said it herself. She didn’t want me because I was too broken. It was clear she didn’t want me here because she told me everything had to come to an end, and not I was going to. I got up and dug through my suitcase to find the bottle of whiskey I brought with me. I held the bottle in the air and said, “Cheers to the end!” I quickly opened the bottle and chugged down a good amount before coming back up for air. I started crying when the amount of alcohol went straight to my head, but God, I loved the taste. The burning liquid tasted of death that was sure to come. I looked over to the glass sliding door that led to the balcony, went to it, and stepped out into the night. I walked to the railing that allowed just enough room for me to sit down on it. I set the bottle down on the railing and hoisted myself up onto the wood, turning around. My feet dangled in the air as I looked out over the city I once found to be so sweet. I took another swig of the Jack Daniel’s and saw the dark blue sky above me that was dotted with the stars.

The contrast in the sky reminded me of the first time I met Luisa.  _ Luisa _ , not Kommissar. That winter night in Germany when she crawled in next to me in bed after I had mistaken her presence for a dream. That was the first kiss we had shared, though we were barely even friends. That was also the first time we held hands, smiled at each other, and were something other than enemies. I still remembered how she willingly confessed her secrets to me even though she had only known me for a few months at that point. All of the sweet memories of Germany made me cry more than I already was and suddenly turned sour as I realized it wouldn’t be the same anymore. I drank more whiskey and found I was already somewhat drunk, which I was glad for. I placed the bottle back down next to me and looked down past my feet. I saw the ground at a never ending distance from me and wondered how I’d survive the anticipation of waiting to hit the ground. I didn’t worry about that as I remembered I didn’t put my note on the table. I went back into the room and pulled out the piece of paper from my suitcase. I folded it up and sloppily wrote, “To Luisa” on the side I left facing upward. I threw the note onto the table and noticed that I had left the door to my hotel room open a crack. I didn’t care about it because everyone staying at this hotel was at the afterparty. I walked back out to the balcony and climbed back onto the railing, in the seated position I was before.

They always said I would have second guesses about what I was doing, but I only knew that I was going to push off this ledge when I was finished with my bottle of whiskey. I took that time to have my last words and thoughts. I thought of Luisa mostly because I loved her despite how much she’s hurt me. Barely any thoughts of other Bellas or family came to mind. I looked down shamefully into my lap and heard an almost inaudible “Ding” reverberate from the hall. I knew someone was getting off the elevator, and if they were curious enough, they would walk into the room and see me. I thought of the nightmare I had months ago and recognized what came next. I looked out into the night and said my last words. “Goodbye, Moose. I loved you.” I didn’t look back into my room as I lifted myself off the edge with my arms and pushed away from the balcony, tears drenching my face. In the next moment, I was embraced from behind by long, strong arms and pulled back onto the balcony, away from the edge. I landed on the person with my back to their front and all I could see was the sky. Someone saved me. Someone stopped me from ending my life. One of their arms was around my waist and the other came under my arm but wrapped back up around my chest.

I cried again, clutching at the arm around my chest, and just whimpered. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as I sucked in a breath, silently wishing I knew who my savior was. The person wrapped their legs around my hips and kept me locked to them when they took the risk to say, “I’ve got you. I have you, Maus.” I realized Luisa was the one who pulled me back from my death, and I desperately tried to get away from her. I was conflicted with so many emotions I couldn’t stop flailing to get out of her grasp. I cried and screamed, “Let go of me! I don’t want you here!” I continuously cried and she tightened her hold on me, exclaiming, “Never! I’ll never let you go again!” Her voice was shaky as if she were crying, and I eventually stopped trying to get away from her, succumbing to her warmth and insistence. I released my hold on her arm, and wailed, “Why won’t you let me kill myself?! I deserve to die! You don’t love me anymore! There’s no point for me to live!” I sobbed loudly as her grip eased up and it turned more into a backward hug than anything. She kissed the side of my head repeatedly and trailed them down to my shoulder where she buried her face and cried a little. She moved both her arms to my waist and whimpered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Maus. I never should’ve told you those lies. They were all lies. All of them.” I cried more, covering my face with my hands, and felt my heart beat faster than ever before.

I turned over in her arms, looking her in the face, and saw how smudged her makeup was. Gray streaks trailed down her face toward her jaw from her mascara, her eyeliner formed dark circles around her eyes, and her smoky eye shadow was smeared around the dark outline. She apparently had been crying for some time if her makeup was that messed up. I didn’t pull away from her at all and I placed my hands on her collarbones, feeling her heart thump like a jackhammer. She was truly worried for my safety. Truly scared for my future. Truly sorry for what she had done. She kept her eyes closed and pulled me closer, fitting my head under her chin. The night was cold, but Luisa was nothing but heat. Her arms sprawled themselves up my back, catching me in a tangle of warmth and comfort, her legs wrapped around my hips and legs, and her head kept me trapped in her embrace. I didn’t know what to do besides melt into her and allow her to hold me until one of us was satisfied. After her sniffles and whimpers subsided, she sat up and pulled me into her lap. She gazed at me desperately in the eyes, and told me, “I’m going to explain everything to you. Right here, right now. Regardless if you want to hear it because I can’t stand hiding from you.”

I moved closer to her, putting my arms around her neck, and told her, “Fine. I only want the truth. The whole truth, Luisa.” She took a deep breath, nodded her head, and reached for the bottle of whiskey behind me. She showed it to me, then drank what was left, saying, “To make sure I tell everything.” Luisa always told the truth when she was drunk or on her way to it, and I couldn’t help but believe everything she told me. She settled her hands on my waist, looked into both of my eyes, and started, “If you remember the park correctly, I told you that I was once kidnapped because I am of the Aryan race. That was twelve years ago. Well, believe it or not, the same person that kidnapped me then has taken me again. The guy you saw me with at the Riff Off was him, the real Neo-Nazi. About a month before I told you I wanted to break up with you, he held me at gun point and explained who he was. After that, he forced me to do so many things I can’t begin to explain, including break up with you, get that swastika tattooed on my hip, and even tell you I didn’t love you. I never wanted to do any of it, but he would’ve killed me or worse. Thankfully, he hasn’t forced me to have sex with him, but he has forced me down to almost nothing to sleep next to him. Once I graduate from college, he’s forcing me to marry him and do nothing but produce children of tall stature, blonde hair, and blue eyes. I managed to get through every day because I knew you were still alive, but then I found out what horrors you were doing to yourself, and I blamed myself for it. I knew I didn’t have a choice, but I had to do all of those things to keep him from coming after you. Otherwise, you’d be forced to do unimaginable things probably ten times worse than me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, I just didn’t know how else to explain it.”

I stared dumbfounded at Luisa. Her story was so unbelievable, but when I connected the dots, it all made sense. The breakup letter was torn in half like she wanted to throw it out, the note she slipped me after the Car Show was hinting at her previous kidnap, and the argument she had with that guy the morning after the Riff Off clearly showed their distressed relationship. When I realized what horror Luisa had faced herself, I cried and pulled her into my chest. She nestled her head into my shoulder and cried a bit more too. “I’m sorry I blamed you for my misery. I didn’t know what you were going through,” I said, holding Luisa tighter. “It’s fine, Maus. I couldn’t have told you until now if I wanted to,” she responded, her voice vibrating against my neck. We pulled away and stared into each other’s eyes, no more secrets between the two of us. I had one question for her, but I was pretty sure of the answer already. “W-Why did you save me?” Luisa smiled weakly, held my face with her warm palms, and lightly sang, “I will be brave, I will not let anything take away what’s standing in front of me. Darling, don’t be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years, and I’ll love you for a thousand more.” Her voice faltered at some points, but she got her point across as I immediately pulled her in for a passionate kiss that was long overdue.

She kissed me back, pouring all her love into the kiss and her touch, and pulled me tight against her. Something inside me shot back to life, and suddenly, I was whole again. To feel Luisa’s lips against mine in a kiss so tender that only love was the possible answer. I felt loved again. I truly loved again. The feeling was overwhelming enough for me to pull away and press my forehead to hers, more tears falling from my eyes out of pure emotion. Once the tidal wave of love evened out, lust kicked in, and I unconsciously started unbuttoning Luisa’s shirt, running my hand over her bare collarbone. She grabbed my hand, looked to me, and asked, “Does this mean—?”

“Yes, Luisa. I love you too, and I forgive you. But most of all, we’re us again.” We kissed and kissed again, relishing in the feeling of no longer being lonely. Then, clothes started coming off. Luisa was out of her shirt first, then me, and we wiped away the remaining makeup and tears from our face before continuing. By the time we laid on the bed, Luisa on top, we were stripped down to bras and panties and stuck to each other at the mouth, chest, stomach, and pretty much anywhere else lovers touched. Our kisses were more passionate and loving than they ever were, even before the fuckery, and this didn’t feel like it was makeup sex. It was more like I-haven’t-seen-you-in-a-while-and-I-really-really-really-really-love-you. I took out Luisa’s bun, and she kissed down my neck, intermixing with bites and sucks. “I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you,” I gasped as Luisa ground her hips into mine, running her hands up my body. I missed how well her body fit onto mine, and that made this that much better. She used her legs to spread mine, and her left hand drifted back down between my legs, causing me to throw my head back. I moved my right hand to a similar spot between her legs and felt her bite me lightly. We were both heated and throbbing to no end, our breathing like we were running. She kissed back up to my lips and fought with my tongue for supremacy. For once, I won but let Luisa stay on top. She pulled away little ways, and I whispered against her mouth, “You want me to touch you, Moose?”

She bit her lip and breathed out, “Ja, Maus. Bitte, berühre mich. Ich möchte dich auch berühren.” I kissed her, then told her, “Go ahead, I’ve been waiting.” She moaned at my words, then kissed me as she pushed two fingers into my hot center, moving in time with her kisses. I moaned quietly at the contact, but reciprocated the touch, sliding two fingers into her as well. She kissed my neck while I moved my free hand under her bra, palming her breast. We continued like this until Luisa slipped another finger inside me, picking up her speed. I quickly reacted and drove another finger into her, matching her speed easily. I moved my hand from her bra to her hip, squeezing her ass. She moaned into my neck, gliding her lips up my neck, and moved her free hand under my bra, massaging my chest with her soft and warm grip. We were so close yet so far out we didn’t notice the room light turn on, signifying someone had walked in. Our faces were either enveloped in open-mouthed kisses that were all tongue or the other person’s neck as we kissed, bit, and sucked at various points. Soon enough, we were both panting and moaning loudly as we both came,  possibly screaming each other’s name. We kissed a few more times, cleaned our fingers of the fluids, and rested with our foreheads pressed together, knowing we were finally back together.

A low, abrupt, “Eh-hem,” snapped us from our lustful daze, and turned our attention to the person standing a few feet from us. I jumped when I saw the tall guy, closing a fist in Luisa’s hair and digging my nails into her side. She winced at the pain, but barely seemed fazed by the intruder. It wasn’t until I recognized the blue eyes and blonde hair that I knew who it was. Luisa’s captor and he saw us having makeup sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Ja, Maus. Bitte, berühre mich. Ich möchte dich auch berühren. - Yes, mouse. Please, touch me. I want to touch you, too.
> 
> If you have any suggestions to where this should end, I'm all ears. I hadn't planned it to go this way, so I'm kind of at a loss for ideas.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would like to take a moment and say that the release of this story was either poorly timed or history took its course. In no way am I trying to poke fun at what happened in Charlottesville, with either the Neo-Nazi's or the people who oppose them. What happened was tragic, and once again, in no way am I trying to make fun of this inccident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry in advance if this makes you cry for any reason. I didn't mean to make this angsty, but I think that's how it turned out anyway.

“Get behind me, Beca,” Luisa told me. The statement came out of nowhere as she was still glaring at the person mere feet from us. “What?” I asked, not looking away from the fire starting in the back of her ice eyes. She turned to stare me in the eyes, the fire burning blue, and commanded me in a voice an octave lower than before, “Get. Behind me. Now, Maus.” In the next moment, she was standing up in front of me, arms crossed across her chest, and she was Kommissar. I immediately felt protected by her, and I sat up, staying behind her. My confidence wavered as the guy took a step toward her, but she remained strong and self-assured, only adjusting her gaze a bit to meet his eye. I couldn’t see her face, but I knew she was stern in every aspect. “What do you want, Heinrich?” Kommissar posed, standing her ground. Heinrich, apparently, was wearing a similar outfit to Pieter’s as if he was impersonating a member of DSM. His face read nothing but rage, contempt, and betrayal, which seemed to darken his crystal blue eyes. “Is that how you’re going to speak to me?” he questioned, getting triggered. Kommissar tilted her head a little and responded, “I don’t know how else to talk to assholes.” Her sarcasm was obvious, and gave her a vibe that said, “Leave me the hell alone.” He stepped closer, about a foot from Kommissar, and threatened, “You might not want to do that because I still control you and I can make your life a living hell.”

His sincerity scared me the slightest bit and caused me to back up a little in fear of him hurting me or Kommissar. Like she had eyes in the back of her head and saw my flinch, she said, “It’s alright, Maus. It’s not like he could make this any worse.” She didn’t look back at me as she continued, “In fact, I wouldn’t worry about him at all. He’s just trying to see if you’ll get scared. Well, I’m not. I’m not scared of you at all.” She huffed out a breath, trying to keep her cool, and waited for his response. “Really? If you’re not scared of me, then why are you hiding your little Maus?” he taunted, glancing around Kommissar and at me. I shrank back before I eased up to Kommissar’s back, standing on my knees. I wrapped my arms around Kommissar’s waist with an unknown confidence and rested my head on her shoulder, staring directly at Heinrich. “I’m not scared either, I’m just a lot more awkward about it,” I stated, once again insulting myself. I felt Kommissar’s stomach flex as she silently laughed, but she kept a straight face, never faltering in her persona. Heinrich turned back to Kommissar, seeing no threat from me, and said, “If you think I’m just going to let you go, you are going to find yourself in a very bad situation.” He spoke in German, but it was pointless because I could speak German. “Speak in English asshole. She may be American, but she speaks German,” Kommissar pointed out, motioning toward me.

“Is that so? Well, then she’ll be able to translate what I’m going to tell you,” Heinrich started, sounding like he was going to explain the horrors that awaited Kommissar. “For one, you’re going to stop being a fucking faggot and be my wife or else I’ll kill your  _ Maus _ and make you watch. Two, you’re going to give me as many children as you can birth whether I have to force them into you or not. Three, you’re going to shut your goddamn mouth and obey me. So if you’re done trying to play Hero for your dyke girlfriend, I demand you lay on your back and let me show you how to be a good little wife.” His German speech shook something inside me as I comprehended what he was insinuating, and I nearly freaked out. Kommissar shushed me before I could object, and told me, “Go, Beca. Stand in the corner, and do what he says.” I looked at her with wide eyes, thinking, “What the hell are you doing?” and she seemed to read my mind. She glared at me, telepathically saying, “Calm down, Maus. I know what I’m doing,” and I trusted her to do the right thing, though I knew I would do everything I could to protect her if it came to that. I slowly unraveled myself from Kommissar, giving her one last squeeze around the waist and kiss on the cheek. I stumbled off the bed, barely catching myself before I fell on my face. I backed up against the wall, pressing my back against the cool plaster, and minutely trembled in my place. I watched as Heinrich raised his hands to Kommissar’s biceps and pushed her back until she fell back on the bed, fear slowly creeping its way up to her face.   


Heinrich removed the leather half skirt from his body and crawled over top Kommissar, hands on either side of her head. He spread her legs just enough for him to fit in between, and he moved her arms around his shoulders, pressing his hands into her waist. He looked at me, smirked, and told me, “Watch closely.” He leaned down and kissed Kommissar, clearly shoving his tongue in her mouth. I didn’t know how good of an actress Kommissar was until I saw her respond to the affection by moving her hands to his face and down his neck. She kissed him back and, while I didn’t approve, even moaned lightly into the kisses, giving him the pretense that she was enjoying it. He moved his hands higher up her half-naked torso and I was just about to push him off her when she clenched her hands around his neck and dug her thumbnails, which were pretty long, into his pulse points. He groaned at the pain, trying to get her to stop, but she dug them in further into his neck, her face contorting into anger. He pawed at her hands, choking for air, and she pushed him off her, him landing on the bed next to her. She stood up and turned back to him, screaming, “You will never take me away again! I will never let you anywhere near me again! Most of all, I will never stop loving my Maus! That’s right!  _ My _ Maus! She’s not something for you to play with because she doesn’t have ‘blonde hair and blue eyes’! She’s the love of my life and I will never rest until she knows that! You can go to hell for the bullshit you’ve caused us, and I hope you can find the time to go fuck Hitler if you’re not too busy fucking yourself!”

She yelled at the injured Heinrich for all the shit he caused in mine and her life, switching between German and English when her rage flared. Finally, she ended and let out a gravelly scream in frustration. It kind of made me fear her, but I knew it was because I’ve never seen her so . . . unhinged. She was starting to come apart the longer she ranted about what this guy put her through, and I worried how far she would go before she broke down in tears or worse . . . true violence. I had to stop her, and while I had no idea how to bring a person back to sanity, I tried my best. I hurried over to her just before she started pacing, her fingers tangled in her hair, and held her face still with my hands on either side of her face. She stopped moving, scowled at me with wide eyes, and lightly shook. She appeared to be holding her head on straight with a hand on either side of her head, and when I looked into her eyes, I saw the full extent of her torture. Her eyes were wild and desperately searching for something to ground her in this moment like they had the morning after the Riff Off. I quickly offered me as her anchor, staring deeply into her eyes and penetrating through the many layers of anxiety. She gazed back into my eyes and found her anchor in the depths of my irises.

Immediately, she calmed and stopped shaking, removing her hands from her hair. She placed them tentatively on my face, whispering, “M-Maus? S-Save me. Pl-Please.” I knew she was too far out of her mind to be able to pull herself back in so I pulled her down to me, and kissed her passionately, feeling most of her anxiety leave. She wrapped her arms around my waist and collapsed against the wall, hugging me close to her body. She sat down with me in her lap, holding me as close as she could get me, and started crying. I went to kiss her when the door, that was locked by Heinrich, busted open and Pieter along with other members of DSM and the Bellas stormed in. Mine and Luisa’s attention snapped to the new arrivals but then turned to Heinrich as he shot up on the bed, looking like he was going to kill us. Pieter apparently saw this look because the next moment, he was all over Heinrich, throwing punches left and right. I went back to Luisa, who was starting to hyperventilate and firmly told her, “Beruhige dich, Elche. Ich bin da. Ich werde immer hier sein.” My words stopped her crying, but her breathing was still erratic. I wiped away the tears, peppered her face with kisses, and kept whispering, “Alles wird gut werden. Nur beruhigen, Elche.” A few Bellas tried to come help with the comfort, but I glared back at them, silently warning them not to. By that time, a policeman came in and apprehended Heinrich without further question.

I kissed Luisa a few times, and she came back to herself, kissing me back fervently. She hugged me tightly, burying her face in my chest, and didn’t need to thank me for saving her from herself. Once the scene had cooled off, we stood from our place on the floor and got some clothes on. She borrowed a few of my clothes, and the pair of sweatpants that were originally hers while I wore a t-shirt and matching sweatpants, only those were my size. After we were clothed and calm, a few more policemen came in and questioned us about Heinrich. I held Luisa around the waist as she explained the past eleven months of hell in vague detail, not wanting to go into specifics yet. My grip helped her stay calm during her interview, and she returned the hold when she was finished. She kissed the top of my head and nuzzled her cheek into the spot she kissed. Eventually, Stacie suggested, “Who’s up for a movie marathon?” Luisa and I looked to Stacie then to each other, deciding a nice quiet evening surrounded by caring people was best. We agreed and we all went to Stacie’s room, Luisa and I getting the loveseat as soon as we saw it. Luisa laid down and I laid down in front of her, allowing her to pull me close and spoon me. Stacie turned on one of her favorite movies,  _ Star Trek _ , and made a few bags of popcorn she bought.

Around the room sat mostly couples, but none felt as special as me and Luisa. There were Jessica and Ashley, still can’t tell them apart, Stacie and Aubrey, Pieter and Aksel (The Beatboxer for DSM), and finally Jesse and Benji. They spread around the living room, individual couples sitting fairly close. Luisa pulled me closer to her, wrapping an arm around my chest, and breathed quietly and deeply into my neck as she whispered, “Ich liebe dich, Maus.” I turned around in her arms, kissed her nose, and whispered back, “Ich liebe dich mehr, Elche.” She chuckled and rested her forehead against mine, closing her eyes to enjoy the moment. I closed my eyes too and I thought over the past year and the years to come. I knew Luisa would be in my life, now that I knew that I did deserve to have one, and no matter what, we’d protect each other for the rest of our lives. She was warm against me, but that warmth had a new extent that dove deeper than regular love. That warmth was my savior that night, and I didn’t realize it then, but that warmth would always be the solace I found whenever things weren’t right with either one of us. I know this had a different meaning at the beginning of senior year, but now I knew it to be correct. I thought we’d be forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Beruhige dich, Elche. Ich bin da. Ich werde immer hier sein. - Calm down, Moose. I'm here. I'll always be here.  
> Alles wird gut werden. Nur beruhigen, Elche. - Everything will be alright. Just calm down, Moose.  
> Ich liebe dich, Maus. - I love you, Maus.  
> Ich liebe dich mehr, Elche. - I love you more, Moose.


End file.
